


Blood River

by MikeHoncho



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Horror, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 53,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MikeHoncho/pseuds/MikeHoncho
Summary: Alexa Bliss is a survivor. A "final girl." But when she moves in with her aunt and uncle in quaint Blue River, Georgia, will she finally be able to leave her past behind her?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is brought to you by my love of 90's teen slasher films, most notably SCREAM. This world is a glimpse into my high school experience some years back. I hope you enjoy.

Blood River. Chapter 1; Pilot part 1.

_“Breathe.” That was all Alexa Bliss could tell herself as she ran, listening in horror as the intense footsteps behind her drew closer and closer. In the distance, the raging inferno of her childhood home grew larger, hotter, and more oppressive. She glanced over her shoulder, her heart jumping as she saw the massive silhouette gaining ground on her, despite how slow the unnamed man seemed to be moving._

_The screams coming from the inferno sounded so familiar. Alexa knew the names and faces of every solitary voice emanating from that disaster. Turning slightly, again stealing a peek at her pursuer, she gasped lightly at the sight. A giant, horizon-consuming figure, arm raised with knife in hand, no more than ten feet behind her. As she observed, in sheer horror, a ghastly smile parted the lips of her attacker, though she couldn’t make out his face._

_Alexa let out a scream. A blood curdling roar of sheer terror, hoping to scare away the wraith. No dice. The terrifying apparition brought the huge blade down toward her as she heard every distant scream emanating from the raging blaze scream “no!” At the exact same time she felt hands shaking her, swaying her from side to side forcefully._

…..

“Alexa! Alexa!” Mickie James gently called, softly shaking the tiny blonde awake. After another minute of convulsing in her sleep, the waifish beauty sat up with a start, gasping for breath while wiping the accumulating sweat from her brow. At the foot of the miniscule girl’s bed, a young looking golden retriever began to stir, before whining a bit and licking her distressed owner on her face, trying to comfort whatever was ailing the poor girl.

“Did you have the dream again, babe?”

Alexa nodded, fighting back a tear. “Yeah, Aunt Mickie, I did. I could feel the heat on me this time. It was so vivid.”

The brunette woman slid an arm around Alexa’s slight shoulders and rubbed her far forearm slightly. The aforementioned puppy jumped down from the bed, crossing the room to a large laundry basket stuffed with blankets.

“It’s ok, Lexi,” she half cooed, hoping her soothing voice and use of Alexa’s nickname would remind her subconsciously that she was safe now.

“I’m sure it’s just nerves. It’s the first day at a new school.” Mickie didn’t believe this for a second, but she was hoping to calm Alexa’s spirit before the minuscule young woman’s emotions got out of control.

It had been a season of change for Alexa, and her aunt, and her Uncle John, and their 3 children. They’d taken in Mickie’s sister’s daughter the previous spring, moving her from Ohio to Georgia. They’d stepped up after the girl had been released from inpatient psychological rehabilitation. She’d been too late to finish the school year at the local high school, but she’d made the cheer squad at prestigious Blue River High through a special tryout the team’s coach arranged after seeing video of her prodigious talent. The special treatment hadn’t endeared her to a segment of the “Raiderettes” team, but she’d been embraced by a few of them, too.

Her train of thought was viciously derailed by her aunt Mickie’s soothing voice.

“Sweetie?” She called, hoping Alexa wasn’t suffering a complete psychological break.

“Sorry,” Alexa returned, an embarrassed smile parting her lips. “I’m just overwhelmed. It’s been… a lot of change.”

“I know, Lex,” Mickie answered sympathetically. “I can’t imagine how rough the last few months have been on you. With,” she paused, trying to tread lightly around the devastating recent past events of Alexa’s life. “You coming here to live with us, and what happened with your parents.” She stopped abruptly, feeling Alexa tense up and begin shaking in emotional distress.

“It’s just been so hard.” Alexa managed to groan out, desperately trying to maintain her composure. And it really had been. As far as the tiny girl’s situation was concerned, it had not been a particularly good calendar year.

“And you are so strong for having come through all that. And,” she continued, pulling Alexa close to her and planting a playful kiss on the top of her head, “your cousins look up to you. You’re the strongest person they’ve ever met.”

Alexa rolled her eyes and wiped away a tear.

“Yeah right. I’ve been a blubbering mess all summer.”

“I’m serious,” Mickie countered, squeezing the tiny girl tighter under her arm. “Brynn told me the other day she wanted to be tough, just like Lexi.”

Alexa couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Well, if she could see me now…”

Mickie chuckled. “You’re gonna do great things. Blue River High is an incredible place. I know some of the kids from Ryder’s, and John works with them a lot. Also, don’t forget that you’re an insanely hot blonde cheerleader. You’re gonna be super popular.” She started rocking Alexa gently from side to side, feeling the shivering in Alexa’s body beginning to calm. “I love you. You remind me so much of my sister, and she was a rock star. There’s so much of her in you, and I know she’d be proud. She was proud,” Mickie added, arm still around her niece. After another moment, Alexa steeled herself, exhaled deeply, gave her faithful canine friend a few scratches behind the ears, and scooted toward the edge of her bed.

“Thank you, Aunt Mickie,” Alexa said softly. “I think I’m okay now. I just have a lot on my mind.”

Mickie nodded. “I get it. How ‘bout John gives you a ride on his way to work instead of you taking the bus? And then one of these weekends we’ll go find you a good car? Something you can have so you’re not depending on us to get from cheer practice back here.” She grinned at her niece. “And you can go to all the parties and social events I just know everyone is going to invite you to.”

Alexa rolled her eyes again. “Yeah right. Because I was such a party animal in Ohio.”

Mickie stood from her perch on Alexa’s mattress. “I’m telling you. It’s different here. You’re going to be popular. In fact, I worry that you might be a little TOO popular. Some of the boys here are-”

Alexa raised her hand to cut her aunt off. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m nowhere near being ready after what happened with Buddy.”

Mickie tried not to betray the pant of sadness she felt when Alexa mentioned her former boyfriend from her old life. In every correspondence she’d had with her sister, Alexa’s mom, Mickie read about how Alexa and Buddy were “the kind of young love that makes anyone around them pine for the days of their youth.” Mickie had once written in response that if the two youthful lovebirds were demonstrative enough to make Monica write “like Lord Byron,” they must’ve been pretty cute together. It genuinely made Mickie’s heart ache to know that Alexa would never see him again.

“I know,” Mickie returned. She tried to keep her speech patterns as even as possible, though she really wanted to remind Alexa that it had been almost a year since the incident, and that socializing with some of Blue River’s cutest and most eligible boys might be exactly what the tiny cheerleader needed.

“When you’re ready, though, Lexi. The boys in Georgia are a little different. The manners, the accents…” Mickie trailed off.

Alexa’s face now morphed into an amused smirk.

“Sounds like you should date one, then.”

Alexa turned toward her armoire. It was one of the few articles of furniture from her old house that survived, and she treasured it. Carefully, she began selecting clothes for that day, and setting aside a change into athletic wear for after school practice.

……

A few minutes after Mickie traipsed up the stairs from Alexa’s basement bedroom into the kitchen area of the bustling Cena family home, Alexa trotted lightly up the same stairwell, her faithful puppy only a step behind her, hoping to grab a bit of breakfast before the fateful journey to her first day at a new high school.

Breakfast hadn’t always been easy for Alexa. No meal had, in fact. She’d developed a debilitating eating disorder at thirteen, and it even became life-threatening at one point. Her parents, her brother, and Buddy had all worked very hard to help her overcome her bulimia. Even with the four of them constantly watching over and praying for Alexa, she’d still needed professional help to be able to eat again without feeling self-conscious or like she was surrendering control of her own body.

Mickie was well aware of Alexa’s past struggles. She’d been filled in by Monica, Alexa’s mom, as the situation developed some years back, and now she felt somewhat prepared to accommodate her niece’s dietary needs. In particular, Alexa ate a lot of egg whites. A LOT. It was a food that would give Alexa much of what she needed nutritionally without upsetting her extremely fragile stomach. So Mickie, her compassion for Alexa shining through again and again, had a fresh egg white and honey on wheat bread sandwich waiting for the slight young woman. It was calories, protein, and carbs. Everything she needed without forcing her to take in more than she wanted. Monica had recalled to Mickie more than once what Alexa’s counselor advised; forcing her to eat will only cause purging later.

That’s why Mickie was embracing Alexa’s dietary requests. The ultrafit tiny young blonde was as conscious of her body as Mickie was the life and well being of her children, and Mickie wasn’t about to fight her on her preferences, given everything that’d happened in Ohio, so she just cooked what Alexa liked and smiled while she did it. “After all,” Mickie reminded herself, “Alexa is family, she’s been the least imposing houseguest ever, and she’s very good at changing diapers, and taking care of the twins, so she deserves a few concessions when it comes to what she eats.”

Breakfast time at the Cena household was almost always chaos. There was Brynlee, John and Mickie Cena’s oldest child at ten years of age, and the twins, Ansleigh and Anson. All three were vocal about their hunger, and that noise was enough without the small TV camped on the linoleum kitchen counter. At the moment it was blaring the morning news, with the local Atlanta anchor going on about a triple murder in Northern Kentucky, or a traffic jam that would delay trips through the city for hours, or a school budget crisis in Tampa. There was no telling, And Alexa was only half listening as she sat down anyway.

Her breakfast was exactly how she liked it, which made the tiny high school junior smile. It would be the first of several smiles that day. In fact, Alexa would later conclude that she’d smiled more that day than she had since she’d moved from Ohio.

She sat contentedly, eating her simple meal with her young cousin and half-listened as Mickie and John ran through their normal morning banter, with him reminding her about Brynlee’s softball practice and Mickie asking John if Alexa could bum a ride with him to school, since her assigned bus was currently steamrolling by the Cena home with no sign of stopping for the new student.

“Sure,” John asserted, snapping Alexa out of her trance. “But it’s not gonna help Alexa socially to be dropped off by a cop for her first day at a new school. They’re gonna think she’s a ‘narc.’”

Mickie pondered this for a second, before shrugging. “There’s that clump of trees out front of the student parking lot. Drop her off behind those. Nobody sees her, and she doesn’t have to ride the…” the maternal brunette stopped for a moment, then looked at Brynlee. “Bryn, cover your ears for a second.”

She waited for the precocious girl to make a big show of pressing her hands against the sides of her face. Mickie continued. “...shitty yellow bus.”

Alexa giggled before quickly finishing her breakfast. At that moment, something that terrified the towheaded pixie sparked within her for the first time since she’d left her home state. A spark that maybe things were going to be better than she’d left them in her home state. A spark that allowed her to dream that regardless of the horrors she’d left behind her, that new hopes, friends, and opportunities awaited her at the other end of a short ride in a squad car. She quickly stood from the breakfast table, grabbed her trusty, well worn, and slightly charred backpack, and followed John out of the kitchen, stopping briefly to tightly embrace her aunt Mickie, and trotted down the outside steps and into the passenger’s seat of squad car number “three eight seven five.”

……

“Can you turn that up please? I love this song.” Bayley Martinez’s attention was divided, but there was nothing on earth that could’ve completely taken her away from THIRD EYE BLIND’s “Semi-Charmed Kinda Life.”

Dean Ambrose shook his head, but obliged, reaching toward his console and turning the appropriate knob.

It was a common routine, carried over from the year before. Dean would wake up before the crack of dawn at his mom’s house, avoid whatever random dude or, even worse, significant other was shacking up at the residence that particular evening, and get ready for school. Then he’d hop in his SUV and drive, often at least twenty miles per hour over the speed limit, to pick up his stepsister from his father’s house. This part wasn’t necessary, but Bayley was the one member of his dad’s new family that Dean actually wanted to be around. His stepmom seemed nice enough, and Bayley’s older sisters were...fun, but Dean deeply resented the lot of them for causing his dad to take off on his mom, and so his interaction with the new Ambrose clan was limited to the smiley hugger.

From their vantage point, Dean could survey the entire front profile of Blue River High School. He especially enjoyed the banner across the school’s front entrance that read, in big, black letters; “Welcome back Senior class of 2000 and all students.” Dean shook his head and scoffed. “They don’t give a shit if we feel welcomed or not.”

He, Bayley, and Brock Lesnar, her tutoring subject and the third occupant of Dean’s Explorer, had been on school property since around six AM. Because of his various other school commitments, Dean had to take weight training at that time of day if he wanted to play football, and so he was there. Himself, Bayley, and a handful of teammates.

“Brock, could you get your feet off the seat, please?”

Lesnar grunted his half-hearted agreement, but moved his massive boots to the floor of the vehicle. From the seat next to Dean, Bayley was giving the heavily muscled teen last minute instructions for his algebra exam.

“...remember, Brock, the key is ‘x.’ X is the quarterback. You have to get him alone before you can take him down. Got it?”

The oafish boy nodded, taking another healthy bite of his chicken biscuit.

“Got it,” Lesnar returned in the affirmative through a mouthful of breakfast.

Bayley visually scanned over a sheet of printed notes.

“Ok, Brock. I think you’re ready.” She turned back toward him, forcing him to make eye contact with her.

“Remember, you have to pass this summer final before you can move up. If you don’t, say ‘bye’ to football. They’re already making an exception letting you take your final after the summer has ended.”

Brock shook his head wryly. “I know. English makes sense to me. History? Shit already happened. When the shit am I ever gonna need to know what x equals?”

Bayley pondered this a moment. “So you’ve gotta buy five hundred feet of two by fours to repair your barn because Dean burned part of it down again.”

Deans head jerked toward the other two occupants of the vehicle.

“Why you bringing that up? It was a total accident.”

Brock shook his head, glaring at Ambrose.

“You’re lucky my dad believed that bullshit cover story about someone tripping over a gas can while they were smoking. Otherwise they’d be dedicating this season to the memory of our dear departed starting linebacker.”

Dean threw his arms up at his sides and shook his own head animatedly. “Who the fuck keeps gasoline in a hay barn? That’s an insurance fraud lawsuit waiting to happen.”

Brock couldn’t suppress a chuckle. One of the main reasons he hung out with Dean was because of how funny the larger boy found Ambrose. Brock quickly fell silent, however, as he felt Bayley glaring back at him.

“Can we get back to this problem please?” She asked, the annoyed sound of her voice causing mild grief in Dean’s soul.

“Sorry, Bay,” Dean muttered quietly. Brock also halfheartedly gestured and grunted something resembling an apology.

Bayley grinned. “Thank you.” She pointed back to the equation before. “So, what if you need to buy wood to rebuild the missing part of your barn? And Home Depot only sells twelve foot planks of two by four wood for eight dollars each. If the amount of wood you need is divisible by twelve, you’ll know exactly how much you need, right?”

Brock nodded, following the logic of his tutor.

“But what if you need to figure length times height for how much wood you need? And THEN figure out how many planks you need? Then you’re solving variables. That’s all algebra.”

Brock scoffed and reached into the white paper to go bag next to Dean, pulling out another biscuit. He unwrapped the delicacy from its foil and took a giant bite.

“Dammit, Lesnar, that was for Roman,” Dean protested.

“Fuck him,” Lesnar immediately countered, mouth still of chicken biscuit. “He should get off his girlfriend for five seconds and get over here if he wants breakfast.”

Ambrose and Bayley both chuckled. Brock wasn’t wrong. Their friend, Roman Reigns, had been conspicuous by his absence since he’d begun dating Natalya Neidhart. She was a senior, a year older than Dean, Roman, and Bayley, and she’d monopolized his time since walking up to Roman last spring and more or less told him that he was taking her to her Junior Prom. She knew what she wanted, she went for it, and Roman was undeniably caught in her web. As a matter of fact, Roman and Natalya, or “Nattie,” were currently just three parking spaces over from Dean’s SUV, engaging in what Dean liked to call their “Monday morning makeout.” Roman’s mom didn’t like how serious Natalya wanted to be with her baby boy, and so she’d forbidden him from seeing the voluptuous blonde during the week. As it often did, the restriction did nothing but stoke Roman’s desire to spend time with his verboten infatuation, and Roman had spent every Monday morning since the beginning of his relationship with Nattie rolling around on her backseat, their lips constantly engaged and their hands continuously roaming.

Dean let Bayley’s soothing voice guide his train of thought back to the present.

“...yeah. Brock, you got this. Your problem is eighty percent mental. You can do this. You’re smart. You had twenty three sacks in fifteen games last year. That takes smarts. If you get lost, just take a deep breath. Remember, we talked about all of this. Yeah?”

Brock nodded. “I know. Thanks Bayley.” The giant flat-topped young man began stuffing papers and his math book into his backpack. “You gonna DJ my party after the game Friday?”

Bayley grinned and nodded vociferously. “Yeah. Can the band play?”

Brock sighed and shook his head slowly, before levelling his gaze at Dean. “I dunno, Bayley. Can they?”

Dean laughed, though it was mostly to keep from crying. “Dude. That was one time. And Seth has worked all summer to get better. If you let Elohssa rock your barn party Friday, I guarantee everyone has a great time.”

Now it was Brock Lesnar’s turn to shake his head. “I can’t fucking believe you named your band the word ‘asshole’ backwards.”

Bayley giggled. “I don’t like it either, but Dean got shitfaced over the summer after Sasha dumped him and came up with it. We all felt too bad for him to tell him how shitty that name is.”

Dean shook his head and gave Bayley and Brock the middle finger. “That name is not stupid. That name kicks ass.” He paused his rant momentarily to glare at Bayley. “And she didn’t dump me. It was mutual.”

Bayley scoffed incredulously. “So y’all mutually agreed that she should suck that quarterback from Central’s dick in the back row of the movie theatre?”

“Yeah, what was that kid’s name?” Lesnar asked, pretending he didn’t know.

“Adam Page,” Dean muttered to himself. He wasn’t actually all that sad to be rid of the girlfriend he’d put up with since second semester of Freshman year. He’d dated plenty over the summer, and actually had a really good time for most of the break with a girl from the next county over named Melina Perez. She, not Sasha, had swapped “v-cards” with the eager Ambrose during Blue River’s Fourth of July celebration, but the two ended up calling their relationship off in mid August when it was clear that neither saw the relationship going further.

What bothered Ambrose, however, was the fact that Sasha cheated on him publicly. She’d made a fool of him and expected him to forgive her just because they’d had an argument the day before. She’d strode up to him, all smiles, and when he confronted her with the information he’d been given from a friend who’d seen Dean’s supposed girlfriend enter an empty theatre with a rival suitor, she’d tried to laugh it off as a natural consequence of a “lover’s quarrel.” Dean saw the situation a bit differently,

“That’s right! Adam Page,” Brock crowed victoriously. “The very same Motherfucker we’ll be seeing at this weeks game. Quarterbacking our opponents. I know you’ll be extra anxious to whip his ass, Dean.”

Ambrose nodded. He didn’t really need any additional motivation to play hard. He loved football. But getting a measure of payback against that smirking, disease-ridden asswagon would make his efforts extra rewarding. He was playing all the scenarios out in his mind when he heard the back passenger door open.

“Thanks again, Bayley,” Brock called quickly, sliding with a purpose out the open hatch. He briefly placed his massive hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Eat shit, Ambrose.”

The smaller boy snickered in amusement.

“Only if you’re mom’s cooking, Lesnar.” He stopped to make sure the vehicle’s door was closed before adding “you big dumb motherfucker.”

Bayley covered her mouth as she giggled. It still tickled her when her stepbrother cursed like that. Furthermore, Dean knew that, and so he often purposefully uttered phrases under his breath that would get a chuckle from her. Her train of thought course corrected, as it often did.

“Dean,” she began, initiating a new line of communication, “why don’t boys like me?”

“Boys love you, Bay,” Dean responded, only half involved in the conversation.

“Nuh uh,” the lovely latina countered, “I haven’t been frenched since May.”

Dean’s face twisted into a mask of disgust. “Why do I need to know that?”

Bayley giggled, and was ready to respond, but both of the suv’s occupants were distracted by a Blue River police car coming to a stop directly on the other side of the street of their vehicle.

Dean would always remember that first time he saw Alexa, because he would swear later that she just kind of elegantly unfolded from the passenger’s seat of the black and white cruiser, and also because “6 Underground” by the SNEAKER PIMPS had just begun pulsing through the state of the art speakers adorning his Ford.

“Who the fuck is that?” Dean murmured, not caring that his stepsister could hear him. Bayley squinted slightly, unsure of who Dean was talking about. After a moment of pondering, her face lit up with recognition.

“That’s Alexa! I met her over the summer at girl’s open workouts. She just moved here.”

Dean’s face didn’t change expression, but he peered over at his faux sibling, incredulous at her nonchalant nature. “You didn’t think I’d want to know that a girl that looks like that-” he gestured wildly toward her as she walked toward the building, “is going to school here now? Holy shit.”

The police roller gently coasted away, it’s driver waiting to see that Alexa made it safely off the street and toward the school. Dean took another minute to fully process what he was seeing.

“She is…” He trailed off, trying to find the right word.

“Breathtaking?” Bayley cut in, as Dean nodded vociferously.

“You swinging both ways now, Bay?” Dean kidded.

“No!” Bayley shouted, offended by the assertion. “I’m just saying. From a purely objective standpoint, she’s super hot.” She watched, her smile growing, as Dean kept his eyes glued on the mysterious new blonde. “Dean has a crush!” She playfully punched her half brother on the shoulder. “You want me to talk to her for you? I heard she’s in choir with us. I could get to know her there.”

Deans first instinct was to refuse. Not because he didn’t want Bayley to do exactly that, but because it was in his nature to deflect any outward appearance of attraction to a girl. Or, for that matter, any appearance that he might not believe that girl might not immediately be as into him as he was into her. The truth is, the incident with Sasha had deeply shaken his confidence. Where he once had a certain kind of dumb swagger, he now had a paper-thin bravado that hadn’t yet been tested by Blue River High’s complex and ruthless social scene.

“Uh, sure,” he finally allowed, purposely slowing his train of thought down. “Just don’t like...make it obvious.”

Bayley giggled again, amused at the side of her stepbrother that so rarely showed itself.

“I’m serious,” Ambrose continued. “Nothing obvious. Just something subtle, like ‘that’s my stepbrother Dean. As you can tell, he’s ruggedly handsome. He enjoys candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach. He’s also a gifted musician who feeds homeless dogs on weekends. I’ve also heard he has an enormous dong’...”

Bayley’s laugh was more pronounced now. “You idiot,” she finally choked out. “I’m not talking to her about the size of your...wang. That’s weird.”

Dean returned her bemused gaze with an incredulous one of his own. “It’s not like we’re related. I know you’ve seen the outline of my junk like a thousand times at dad’s pool…”

He trailed off again as Bayley’s laugh grew louder, before turning to groans of protest and mock revulsion. Deans unique repor with his youngest step sister was his favorite aspect of life at the moment, and her laugh soothed him, but he’d be lying if he claimed he didn’t want her to follow through on her promise to get to know the mystery blonde who’d stride into the ordinarily mundane school and immediately set Dean’s world upside down.

After another moment, the stepsiblings, brought together by a union neither asked for, gathered their belongings and reluctantly trudged into Blue River High School.

…..

For Alexa Bliss, the first day of her junior year of high school was the same as every other first day of school had been, with the notable exception that she was at a new school hundreds of miles away from where she’d grown up, and she was now amongst a sea of strangers with only a very few familiar faces. Her first two classes, chemistry and US history, had gone without a hitch, but the waifish girl with the red tipped hair couldn’t help but feel like some sort of zoo exhibit. To state it plainly; Alexa Bliss drew gazes.The combination of her beauty and the fact that she was brand new in a school that got very few transplants made her a favorite target for stares. She had seen that most of the kids were very nice, however, lending credence to the “southern hospitality” stereotype. She figured most of the male students were being kind because a pretty little blonde girl was asking them for help, but she was pleasantly taken aback at how many of the girls she’d met over the summer at either open workout or cheerleading practice remembered her name and greeted her warmly, too.

Now she was finding her way to her third period class; select mixed choir. In addition to being a gifted athlete, Alexa also harbored a passion (and talent) for music. She’d taken up piano at an extremely early age, and her singing voice came along not long after that. She’d even started dabbling in guitar a year or so before “the move,” and one of Aunt Mickie’s hand me down Fender electric six strings was currently occupying space in Alexa’s basement room. But this was the first time she’d be making any kind of music publicly since the move. In fact, since she’d been released from the psychiatric care center, she hadn’t played or sang publicly at all.

Looking around, Alexa was blown away by what she saw in the large choral rehearsal room. Athletes wearing letter jackets. Pretty girls. People that she immediately assumed were Blue River “high society.” And here they all were, presumably all as equals.

The overwhelming sensation continued, and her social anxiety was nearing its boiling point, but suddenly her emotions were quelled by the soothing hand of a vaguely familiar brunette on her shoulder.

“Hi,” the girl began enthusiastically. “I’m Bayley. You’re Alexa, right?”

The slight blonde nodded and grinned lightly. “Yeah. Did we meet at open workouts?”

Now it was Bayley’s turn to grin. “Yeah. I know there were a lot of people for you to meet, so my feelings aren’t hurt if you don’t remember me.”

Alexa shrugged. “I remember your face. It’s nice to meet you again, though.”

Bayley smiled, spreading her arms for a hug. After a moment, Alexa acquiesced to Bayley’s gesture, allowing the taller female to wrap her limbs around her.

“I’m a hugger,” Bayley continued. “I like to make people feel welcome.”

That sentiment flooded Alexa’s soul with relief. Bayley seemed like the kind of person to give her straight answers, rather than withholding information that would potentially help her navigate the difficult waters of a new high school.

“Thanks, Bayley,” Alexa responded kindly. “Can I ask you something?” She lilted. Prompted by Bayley’s friendly nod, she continued. “What’s the deal? At my old school, all the chorus kids were kinda nerdy. Like, the boys were kinda wimpy and the girls were all super prudes. This is like...different.”

Bayley nodded, as though this sentiment were the most natural thought in the world. “Yeah, like eight years ago the county decided to start a ‘total student’ program. In addition to academics and sports, we were all required to learn an instrument or participate in some fine art. Most of us chose singing. My step brother Dean started on guitar, but now he sings and plays piano, too. He’s really good.” Her face lit up with revelation. “Our band is playing a barn party after the football game Friday. We’re gonna kill Central and then after ‘Elohssa’ is gonna rock hard.”

Alexa’s head tilted in curiosity. “Elohssa? Wait…”

Bayley giggled and nodded again. “Yeah, it’s ‘asshole’ but backward. Dean named us after he broke up with his girlfriend. She cheated on him.”

“Aww,” Alexa returned. “That was shitty of her.” She found herself enjoying her conversation with the latina. “Is your step brother in here?”

Bayley’s heart jumped inside. This was her chance to point Dean out to Alexa and see how the blonde responded. “Yeah, that’s him.” She pointed Dean out amongst the crowd of boys in the center of the choral formation.

“Holy cow,” Alexa mused to herself. Dean was, in a word, hot. He was tall. Much taller than Buddy. His broad and muscular shoulders were framed by his “Raider Football” t-shirt. Alexa thought she’d seen him before, during practice for the football players and cheerleaders, but up close he could pass for a movie star.

“That’s him?” Alexa asked, hoping not to betray her almost immediate infatuation with the boy. Her therapist had reiterated again and again that she wasn’t ready for a relationship, but her stomach leapt inside her for the first time since she’d moved. Dean was gorgeous. And, as if that weren’t enough, he made his way slowly through his friends and slouched on the piano bench in the corner of the room. As he opened the cover on the piano keys, the director made her appearance for the first time.

Mrs. McMichael, a beautiful blonde with the most lovely Southern accent Alexa had ever heard, called the class to order. She explained to the new members what the objective of that choral group was, and how this group carried the banner for the entire fine arts department, and then she announced that they’d spend the first week doing individual auditions in a small practice room to the side of the main rehearsal hall. Mrs. McMichael, or “Mrs. Mc,” as her students affectionately called her, called the first student back, then told the others they could talk quietly amongst themselves or play any of the instruments in the small sunken in “pit” set up for an accompanying band to practice.

As soon as the office door was closed, the boy Bayley pointed out began lightheartedly playing the piano. Whatever Bayley had divulged about his talent, she’d vastly undersold him. Dean sat on the bench, his hands deftly dancing up and down the keys, began playing “River of Dreams” by BILLY JOEL.

“We performed that in the spring last year,” Bayley explained. “Dean sang the solo and played piano. We all sang with him.”

Alexa tried to downplay how impressive (and attractive) she found that. “What did you perform?” She asked, trying to sound as genuinely curious as possible.  
Bayley laughed dismissively. “I played lead guitar with him. I played lead guitar with everybody. I’m not a vocal soloist. I’m mostly here because all my friends are in here and Mrs. Mc gives me an ‘A’ if I play.”

Now Alexa was genuinely impressed. “You play lead guitar?”

Another voice from over Bayley’s shoulder cut in. “Bayley fucking wails. She’s hands down the best instrumentalist at this school.”

The latina’s face grew flushed with embarrassment. “Stop, Dana.”

The buxom newcomer extended her hand to Alexa. “Dana Brooke.”

Alexa’s eyes squinted in thought. “I’ve seen you too. Softball, right?”

The thicker girl grinned in confirmation. “Yep. Open workout?”

Alexa shrugged. “Yep. That’s how I’ve met everyone I know here so far.”

Dana snickered. “Well, don’t trust the impressions you gathered from summer workout. Some of these bitches are nice all summer and then one of the boys they’re crushing on asks you to Homecoming instead of them and they try to fucking stab you.”

Alexa raised her eyebrows. “That sounds...oddly specific.”

“It is.” Dana shook her head, clearly reflecting on a past incident. “Watch the bitch with the purple hair.”

Bayley nodded somberly. “Sasha? Yeah. One time in middle school I got the last chili stick at lunch and she started a rumor that I liked to French kiss the janitor.”

Alexa cackled, feeling comfortable for the first time that day. “Noted. Don’t trust the girl with purple hair.”

“She’s heinous,” Dana agreed. “She’s two faced, but she wears the pretty one, so she’s got that going for her.”

All three girls chuckled. They continued their conversation as the class went on, before Dana had to “face the music” with her solo evaluation from Mrs. Mc. Dean stopped playing eventually, joining Roman and Daniel Bryan on the back row, only briefly making eye contact with the girl he hoped would soon be the object of his affection.

……  
With Alexa’s lunch break came a sense of abundant and abject relief. She’d arrived at the school dreading the social right of passage that was lunch hour at public high school; one misstep or rejection from potential tablemates could stick with a new student for the duration of their tenure. But once again, Bayley Martinez had saved the day, walking with Alexa from the chorus rehearsal room to the cafeteria, with Dana Brooke on the other side of the diminutive cheerleader.

And now she was surrounded by seemingly friendly students. Bayley was to her right, smiling and carrying on with a boy the latina had listed as Zack Ryder. Apparently, Zack was the son of the owner of Ryder’s Pizza and Grill, the favorite local eatery of Blue River. It was also where Mickie spent random evenings and weekends hostessing part time when she wasn’t cutting hair. His packed lunch was a thing of beauty, with leftover portions of several entrees boxed for him,and Alexa got the distinct feeling Dana Brooke had a lingering crush on the junior wide receiver.

Nia Jax was there, too. The absolutely captivating senior seemed at ease amongst what Alexa believed to be on of Blue River High School’s “cool” tables. She was massive. There was no disputing that. Probably six feet tall and close to three hundred pounds. But she was also gorgeous. Her general countenance was fascinating to Alexa, who’d never seen someone so utterly comfortable in their own skin. She also appeared to be a fantastic athlete. She’d heard Dana refer to Nia as the “anchor” of their softball team. She was the squad’s first baseman and cleanup hitter, and she was reputedly as feared on the diamond as she was on the basketball court in the winter.

There were several other students Alexa wanted to get to know slumped around the white surface. One boy introduced himself as Seth Rollins. He had stringy long black hair, and he was wearing a Megadeth t-shirt and torn jeans. A big Samoan named Roman Reigns sat across from him, and Alexa immediately sensed a bond between them. Next to Roman was a girl Alexa met over the summer at the school gym. Her name was Natalya, and based on the way her head was resting playfully on Roman’s shoulder, Alexa deduced they were a committed couple.

Then, on the far side of Roman, was the devastatingly handsome boy who’d spent the last hour softly serenading his entire class.

“Damn,” Alexa thought to herself. “Four hours into your first day and you can’t take your eyes off of the piano playing linebacker.”

Everything about that statement was a bit odd. What polar vortex had she fallen into that she’d ended up in this weird ass wonderful school where everyone was gorgeous and talented and seemingly easygoing? Alexa mused about this internally for another moment before Dana’s voice cut through her train of thought.

“Oh shit,” Dana muttered. The voluptuous girl snickered wryly. “I think queen bee has taken an interest in my new friend here.”

Alexa’s brow furrowed as she began to turn over one shoulder.  
“Don’t look,” Bayley exclaimed. The trepidation with which Bayley and Dana spoke about Sasha gave Alexa great pause. And as he cautiously peeked over her right shoulder, she took in the exquisite yet threatening form of Sasha Banks.

She was clad in her “Raider Volleyball” t-shirt, and shorts that didn’t leave a whole hell of a lot to the imagination. Her shapely legs were a clear eye catcher, and no one could deny that she was maybe the most physically attractive specimen at Blue River High.

From the second Sasha Banks laid eyes on Alexa Bliss, she hated her. As gorgeous and confident as Banks seemed, she had an insecure streak a mile wild, and this breathtaking blonde was stomping all over it.

“Hello girls!” Sasha called disingenuously, radiating an air of fake courtesy. Dana rolled her eyes in response, while Nia made a “jerkoff” motion with her hand. Bayley just hunched over, hoping not to draw the ire of the magenta-haired “it girl.”

“What do you want, Sasha?” Rang a new voice. Alexa and Bayley glanced over their near shoulders, hoping to find out who was on their side. To Bayley’s immense relief, and Alexa’s curiosity, the girl talking down Sasha was a statuesque blonde Alexa had seen several times but hadn’t officially met.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Charlotte.”

“Well I’m talking to you,” the gorgeous girl returned. “We already warned her about you. You and your bullshit.”

Dana Brooke nodded her agreement. “Yeah. We explained what kind of ‘friend’ you are. You never met a back you couldn’t stab or a face you wouldn’t lie to.”

Sasha smirked, though Alexa was sure she could make out the blushing that came with confrontations of that nature.

“Please, Dana, the only thing you know about backs is that you can’t stay off of yours. That’s what David Otunga told me, anyway.”

That name was still clearly a sore spot for the endowed blonde. She’d believed David when he told her he was in love with her, and she’d given him her virginity, no questions asked. It hadn’t taken long after for Otunga to start spreading rumors throughout the school about how “easy” she was and how simple it’d been for him to add her to the list of his conquests. The stout girl slammed her hands on the lunchroom table, violence etched across her face.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Dana’s words came out evenly and at a low volume, sending shivers down Alexa’s spine. The hurt in her new friend’s eyes was apparent, leading Alexa to think that whoever this Otunga guy was, she’d been important to Dana at some point, and that that wound was still fresh, whatever it might’ve been.

The silent hatred boiled between the two groups of women, probably for longer than it should have.

“Fuck off, Sasha,” Charlotte finally muttered.

The pink haired diva rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m not gonna stand here and waste any more time with a ‘has been’, a ‘never will be’, and some new girl that looks like a wet mouse.”

Alexa felt anger well within her when she heard Sasha call her a “wet mouse.” She remembered all the abuse she endured in the eighth grade, before she filled out, and there was nothing Alexa hated more than the “mousey” rap she once had.

“Fuck off, Sasha.” This time it was Dana, who stood to her feet and quickly traipsed to her side of the table, getting right in Sasha’s face. “Now.” The buxom blonde assumed an expression far more menacing than Alexa had seen from anyone so far that day, and it was clear that even Sasha found this a bit out of character.

“O-ok Dana,” Sasha spat out, managing to create some separation between herself and the now angered Brooke. “Just calm down. We were welcoming the new girl. That’s all.”

“We’re handling that,” Bayley chimed in. “We told her all about you. How you were nice to peoples’ faces and then stabbed them in the back when they did something you didn’t like.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Bayley. I’ll see you real soon.” With that, the mocha-complected girl backed away from her gang of opposition and strode confidently away, joining a small clump of girls waiting for her.

In her heart, Alexa smiled. She’d had a wonderful group of close, faithful friends at her old school, and Bayley and Dana embracing her so completely almost immediately gave her another spark of hope that she wouldn’t walk through this next phase of her life alone. “And,” she mused to herself, “if Dean Ambrose’s gorgeous ass wants to walk with me, too, I guess I’ll just have to count my blessings.”

……

And that’s how it went for much of Alexa’s first week at a new school. Dana and Bayley, her new friends, guided her through the social minefield that could be high school. Alexa went to school, excelled at cheerleading practice, and did her best to help Mickie and John at home.

Then came Thursday afternoon. She remembered after the fact that Mickie had told her she was hostessing at Ryder’s that night, and John had night shift, but none of that helped Alexa in that moment. She’d forgotten to secure a ride home, and there was no walking that far after the sun sank low over the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Georgia.

Alexa let out a defeated sigh. She was severely irritated. Not at anyone who lived in her house, but at herself, for forgetting to make suitable arrangements.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, gazing at her Nokia phone. Texting was something she enjoyed, but it wasn’t an exact technology yet, and so every response she got back from her Aunt Mickie was just short of making total sense. The tiny blonde gathered that it’d be impossible for her guardian to come get her, and anyone she knew well enough to ask for a ride had already departed, and so Alexa Bliss found herself in quite a pickle.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a gravelly voice call out to her for the first time.

“Need a ride, Tinkerbell?”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Bayley had given her a “head’s up” about her stepbrother. Dean could be abrasive, but Alexa’s new friend also told her that he could be incredibly kind. What worried Alexa was catching feelings for the unkempt linebacker.

She let out a huge sigh. “Yeah. Yeah I do. If you’re going out by the railroad tracks.”

She turned 180 degrees, letting her eyes confirm what her mind already knew. There he was, leaned against the concrete bench that formed a ninety degree angle on the sidewalk nearest her. The rogue-ish young man nodded his agreement.

“Yeah, yeah I am, actually. You’re Alexa, right? My step-sister won’t shut up about you.”

The miniscule cheerleader fought against blushing with every fiber of her being. “Which one is your sister?” She called in return, already knowing the answer.

“Bayley. The huggy one.” Both young people giggled at Dean’s response.

“I know her. I know she left early today or I’d get a ride with her.”

Dean nodded. “Yep. She has her guitar lesson today. I dunno if you heard, but she’s something of a virtuoso.”

Alexa returned Dean’s nod with one of her own. “I did hear that. Dana told me. Is it true?”

The brunette boy shrugged. “If anything, everyone’s underselling it. Bayley is a genius. In every sense of the word.”

Alexa nodded again, processing the information.

Dean continued. “But enough about my stepsister. Do you need a ride?”

The miniscule blonde paused. She didn’t really know Dean, but it appeared she DID need a lift home, and if Bayley liked the boy, she figured he must be okay.

Alexa looked over both shoulders, shrugging. “I guess I do.”

Dean grinned and chuckled. “Then your chariot awaits, milady.” He gestured toward his vehicle, which Alexa noticed appeared dusty from backwoods use.

“Just like back home,” she murmured to herself.

“What?” Dean inquired, having heard the tiny girl’s observation.

“Nothing,” Alexa countered, clearly flustered by Dean having heard her. “Yeah, I need a ride. My aunt Mickie is working and I don’t have a car.”

Dean nodded, then checked his watch. He shook his head quickly.

“Fuck!” He muttered to himself. He glanced back up to Alexa. “You hungry?”

The blonde girl sighed heavily. “Why?”

Dean ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “‘Cause I told Bayley I’d pick her up at Ryder’s. Give her a ride home. Everyone goes on Thursdays after practice. I’m surprised no one invited you. You’re all Bay talks about now.”

Alexa shrugged. “They did invite me, but my aunt works there.” The light bulb went off over her head in that moment. “That’s where she is right now,” she reminded herself, to her own great chagrin. To get a ride where she needed to be, she’d have to bow to the mercy of Dean Ambrose. Dean’s perplexed look reminded her that she owed him at least fifty percent more in explanation. “I’m not sure I want to be there if my aunt’s gonna make a big deal about it.”

Dean nodded, pretending to accept this answer. “Well, I guess your choices are to ride with me or walk home.” He tugged his keys from his pocket. Alexa noticed that he had a larger than average cluster of turnkeys on several chains, their hoops coming together in non-corresponding orbits. Seeing the expression on Alexa’s face tense, Dean allowed his posture to relent while he shook his head lightly.

“Tell you what,” he conceded vocally. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable because you don’t really know me. Fair?”

Alexa nodded, breaking her eye contact once again with the young linebacker. “There’s just...a lot you don’t know.”

Dean snickered. “And I don’t mind that. So here’s how it’s gonna go. We’ll park at Ryder’s. You go in first. That way I can watch you go in and be all gentlemanly and shit.”

The waifish blonde giggled. Ambrose continued.

“Then I’ll count to fifty and go in after. Then there won’t be anyone that thinks we’re on a date. I’ll just be giving a new friend a lift. Cool?”

If Alexa’s attraction to Dean had been warm before, it was flat out radiant now. He really was thoughtful. And he couldn’t be self centered, since he didn’t want to give any impression that he was romantically involved with the new hot blonde cheerleader. In his own little way, he was being kinder to her than anyone had in some time. She allowed herself a brief but sincere grin in return at him.

“Cool.” With that, she followed him to his broken in but still very nice SUV, allowing him to open her door without commotion, and sat silently listening to the local alternative station as Dean kept his stream of consciousness chatter going at a steady pace from the school parking lot to their destination.

……………..

Ryder’s Bar and Grill was widely known throughout Blue River for its outstanding service, good food, and small town atmosphere. Which was good, because it was also the town’s largest and longest tenured restaurant, and had long since become a favorite for students to gather following Thursday night practice, before and after sporting events, or really just any occasion that required more than about four seats at any one table. The local town council met there on the second Tuesday of every month, and they were also the only eatery within the township that served liquor. All of these factors, along with dozens of others, made Ryder’s the center of the social orbit in Blue River.

Not a single one of those factors helped Alexa Bliss at that moment. She’d walked through the oak doors alone, but she was pleasantly surprised by the amount of smiling faces that greeted her upon her arrival.

The biggest smile, and most familiar face, belonged to her aunt. Mickie worked at the popular watering hole a couple of nights a week, supplementing her income as a hairstylist, and bringing in valuable funds to feed her growing family. Alexa had insisted on at least five occasions that Mickie should dip into the fund set up by the Bliss family lawyer, but her aunt steadfastly refused, repeatedly noting that that money was for Alexa to use, for things she needed both now and in the future. So instead, Mickie worked a few hours a week seating rambunctious high schoolers and families looking forward to the end of the work week. At the end of the day, that’s really what Ryder’s was; a place for all the citizens of Blue River to congregate, have a cold beer at the end of the day, or just take the entire family out for a hot meal prepared by folks who cared.

“Hi, sweetie,” Mickie intimated softly as Alexa approached the hostess stand. “I’m SO sorry I forgot to tell you I was working here tonight. I’m still getting used to being responsible for you.”

Alexa smiled warmly. She loved her mother’s sister, and one lapse in memory wouldn’t do anything to change that. “It’s okay, Aunt Mickie. I know you didn’t mean to.”

After a split second, Mickie realized that her niece was at the town’s most patronized restaurant on it’s busiest night of the week, and that she’d apparently been invited there by a new friend.

“Who’re you sitting with tonight, Lexi?”

The tiny blonde considered her options. On the one hand, she definitely did want to sit with the erratic young man who’d given her a ride to dinner, but she also didn’t want to send the signal that she was more interested than she actually was. She glanced over at one of the long tables the two dozen or so students were currently perched around like some sort of double sided “last supper” portrait. Her countenance lightened considerably when Bayley waved her over, and the bright grin of Dana Brooke also set the tense new student at ease.

“I’ll sit with them, Mickie,” Alexa replied. Mickie, almost bursting with pride for Alexa having made new friends, led her sister’s daughter toward the aforementioned table, taking the time to slide a chair next to Bayley Martinez.

Bayley jumped up, anxious to hug her new friend for at least the third time that day. The two engaged in idle small talk, while a college aged girl sauntered around the table taking orders. Against her better judgement, Alexa ordered a fried chicken sandwich with fries. It wasn’t her first choice, but facing the judgemental stares of her new friends was a prospect that appealed to Alexa even less than eating something that might upset her stomach.

After another moment, Dean came sauntering in, standard sneer across his face and hands shoved in the pockets of his letter jacket. Striding smoothly past the hostess stand, Dean nodded casually at Mickie, who he’d never officially met but easily recognized, before parking his sore body into an empty chair next to Alexa. The chair had originally been occupied by Bayley, but the hugger switched places with her new blonde friend so she could sit between Alexa and Dana Brooke. What Alexa didn’t know was that Bayley was also hoping that her stepbrother would take the closest open seat. He had, and that made Bayley very happy.

“Hey Dean!” She called brightly, motioning for him to come join her. She gestured toward the vacated seat on the other side of her new friend. Alexa, picking up on what Bayley was trying to do, narrowed her eyes at the latina and shook her head almost imperceptibly. Alexa found Dean insanely attractive, but she wasn’t all that far removed from having the relationship she was reasonably sure was going to end in marriage and children forcibly torn from her. She’d left her precious Buddy Murphy behind in Ohio, and she’d spent the last few months trying to move on while she was in a mental institution. One of the big things her therapist had stressed to her was to not run headlong into a relationship. And as much as part of her craved male companionship in Georgia, she also knew she wouldn’t be suitable at all in her affections for whoever the unlucky boy was.

Dean flashed a series of hand signals at the boy Alexa recognized as Zack Ryder, in what she assumed was some sort of indication of what he was eating. Alexa also noticed that Dean was pretending not to notice who he was sitting next to. He made small talk with Seth Rollins, who sat on the opposite side of him from Alexa, and Lex turned her body away from Dean to Bayley, who was having trouble hiding her mischievous grin from Alexa Bliss.

And that wasn’t all. Alexa’s aunt Mickie, who’d figured out the specifics of how Alexa had gotten to Ryder’s when she saw both the look on her niece’s face and Dean’s, couldn’t stop checking in on the long table of students. She’d dropped off waters, silverware, and small plates, and Alexa had almost successfully avoided the knowing gaze of her guardian. Finally, as the large party’s food was being delivered, Alexa couldn’t avoid the prying eyes of her mother’s oldest sister anymore.

“He’s cute!” Mickie mouthed silently, but glaring at Dean in a highly exaggerated manner, from her post over the shoulders of the student’s sitting across from Alexa. The petite blonde glanced to either side of her, making sure neither neighbor caught the fairly obvious message Mickie had sent her.

“Shut up!” Was Alexa’s silent response, her eyes wide in fear that someone else might’ve seen her silent communication. Mickie was technically Alexa’s aunt, and legal guardian, but their relationship was much closer to sisters than anything else. Bliss thought she would be in trouble with the brunette mom, but Mickie just snickered in response, as if to say “yeah right, like you don’t want to play tonsil hockey with him.”

Right about then the food started departing the kitchen. As it was such a large order, every available staff member of the modest-sized eatery was carrying at least one serving tray. Zack began handing out plates on the opposite end of the cluster from Alexa and Bayley, and the aforementioned unknown blonde young woman who’s nametag read “Taya.”

Alexa got her food from Mickie. Her platter was delivered by her aunt with a shocked look, as if to say “I thought you only ate egg whites.” Alexa shrugged slightly, conveying her own expression that seemed to communicate an unknown message to her kin.

Her chicken sandwich, though she hated to admit it, was exceptional. The outside was crispy and the inside juicy, and the toppings and condiments tasted fresh and possibly even home made. She noticed that Dean’s double cheeseburger also smelled divine.

The festivities went on for another hour or so. Alexa ate and laughed with Bayley and Dana, and she was proud of how much of her order she’d consumed. Her always concerned aunt also beamed with pride, knowing how difficult it must’ve been for Alexa to just consume in front of her peers. Most of the chicken sandwich was gone, as were the vast majority of the fries, and though she felt a bit queasy, Alexa couldn’t help but admit to herself that she felt like a million dollars for blending in as well as she had. No one at the long table would’ve known that Alexa was a recovering anorexic with serious trust issues when it came to eating in front of any crowd at all, when barely eight months ago she’d been at death’s door.

Then there were her interactions with Dean Ambrose. As a woman, no matter how young, Alexa could tell when any man was interested in her. She was, however, willing to admit to herself both how hard Dean was trying to disguise his interest AND how much his interest was reciprocated. But Alexa was interested. There was no doubt there. She did well in her attempts not to fawn over the broad-shouldered boy, although Bayley and Dana had caught her glancing at his rippling muscles more than once. Rather than sell her out, however, the two girls just laughed and rolled their eyes.

After another twenty or so minutes of conversation, the checks began appearing, both from Taya and Zack. Alexa, overwhelmed by company as she might’ve been, noticed that Dean hadn’t paid for her dinner. Which meant that her Aunt Mickie had.

She glared again at her mother’s sister as she rose from her seat to corner her legal guardian. As much as she appreciated the gesture, she knew John and Mickie couldn’t spare the money to pay for her meal.

“I’d like my check now,” the tiny blonde intimated to her aunt.

“It’s been taken care of,” Mickie said, while waving her hand dismissively.

Alexa’s pulse grew faster as her cherubic face grew redder.

“Aunt Mickie, please let me pay for my meal. I know you and uncle John can’t afford it and I’m not gonna let Dean pay for it so-”

Bliss was cut off by Mickie’s hands sliding over the outsides of her face, lightly planting her lips on the very tip of her ward’s nose.

“I got you, Lex. What is family for?” Mickie asked, grinning as Alexa rushed to wipe the kiss from her immediate countenance.

Lex tried not to blush. “Thanks, Aunt Mickie. I really appreciate it.”

Her aunt grinned. “Well, I was hoping that handsome boy would pay for you, but I know that things are different than when I was dating your uncle John, so I’ll try to ‘be cool,’ like you told me the other day.”

Alexa rolled her eyes at her aunt’s suppositions about the state of her interactions with Dean. Other than a very polite small talk session with him in the car, during which time he’d revealed that his absolute favorite band was Rage Against the Machine and that his relationship with Sasha Banks had made him listen to the angry music more than he ever had before.

“He’s very cute, Aunt Mickie, but I’m not sure I’m ready for anything after Buddy…”

Mickie waved her hand, trying not to appear dismissive. “Lex, I’m not saying you should jump in head over heels with this boy. But he’s cute and he seems sweet and he’s always polite when I see him in here. You could do worse while you’re living with us.” Mickie threw her hands up in faux innocence, as if to say “not my decision.”

Alexa shook her head. “He’s very handsome. And he has a nice singing voice. But I can’t imagine being ready for dating seriously.”

Mickie snickered at her ward. “Then date him not seriously.”

“Aunt Mickie!” Alexa exclaimed, though she tried to maintain her hushed tone.

“What?” Mickie responded, not fully grasping what Alexa was taking from her assertion.

“I don’t...do that,” Alexa persisted, though her aunt wasn’t sure she meant it.

“I’m not saying you should bear his children,” Mickie admonished playfully, elbowing her niece ever so slightly in the ribs, “but if he asks you to dinner or the movies, you should go.” Her face grew a bit more serious. “But, if you DID bear his children, his family is rich as hell, so…”

Alexa’s face was borderline swelling now.

“Are you advocating a premarital teenage pregnancy, Aunt Mickie?”

The older of the two women smiled and rolled her eyes. “No. I’m advocating you having fun with a very cute boy who seems at least a little interested in you. Now go ask him to take you home.”

Alexa’s face turned confused. “I thought I’d get a ride home with you.”

Mickie grinned back at her. “Oh no. I’ll be here for at least another hour. You don’t want to wait that long, do you?”

The tiny blonde figured out what her mom’s sister was up to. Her piercing blue eyes narrowed. “You want me to have to get a ride home with Dean again, don’t you?”

Mickie didn’t answer. Instead, she just shrugged and walked away slowly. Alexa shook her head ruefully. Her aunt had played her, and done so perfectly. Instead of calling her on her nonsense, however, she simply sauntered back to her seat between Bayley and the aforementioned Ambrose, who turned toward Alexa with something of a knowing smug on his face.

“My ears are burning. You talking about me?”

This remark was as forward as Dean Ambrose had even considered being toward Alexa Bliss during their very brief four day friendship. But Alexa, in that moment, decided the best course of action was to fight fire with fire.

“You wish. My aunt was telling me she was gonna be here a little later than I’d like to be out. Do you mind dropping me off at home?”

Dean nodded. He’d extended his arm around the back of Alexa’s chair while she’d been talking to Aunt Mickie at the hostess stand, and neither of the two youths failed to notice that his appendage had gone nowhere since she’d returned to her perch.

“As long as your house isn’t too far out of the way,” Ambrose returned, a haughty tone in his voice. He was smiling wide, betraying his lighthearted intent, and all at once Alexa felt comfortable enough with the handsome classmate to joke back.

“I’m not sure I want you knowing where my house is at all,” she countered, raising her eyebrows as if to say “try me, smart guy.”  
Dean shrugged, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his letterman’s jacket. “I’ll be happy to drop you off anywhere in town and let you walk your midget ass to your aunt Mickie’s. Also, I already know exactly where that is, because this is a small town Georgia and everyone knows where everyone lives, so you may as well come with me.”

Alexa snickered. Dan had a point, but that didn’t mean Alexa had to like it. She rolled her eyes, a gesture she found she was employing more and more around Ambrose, before gesturing toward the front door of the restaurant in an exaggerated manner.

“After you, ” Alexa quipped playfully.

“No, I insist,” Ambrose returned. Behind them, Bayley and Dana exchanged a knowing smirk. Bayley had told her blonde friend that she was almost certain her stepbrother would be after the waifish cheerleader sooner than later, but even she was impressed at how polite and gentlemanly her sometimes impudish sibling was being.

Eventually, the small group of high schoolers giggled as they headed to the parking lot. As much as she tried to deny it, Alexa’s vulnerability meter didn’t seem to register when it came to the prodigiously talented Ambrose, and deep down, she sensed the she could trust the wild-haired musician to serve her own best interest.

…………………………………………………..

As they made their way to the parking lot, however, only one thing was on Dean Ambrose’s mind; the whereabouts of quarterback Mike Mizanin. “The Miz,” as he was commonly known, was normally the center of attention during their Thursday night dinner summits. This week, however, the brash southpaw had bigger and better things on his mind. Well, one thing; Maryse Oullette. The stunningly beautiful French-Canadian had finally agreed to “go off” with the dynamic Senior signal-caller, after several weeks of dating, and the two now found themselves locked in a steamy makeout session, Mike’s Mercury Cougar sports car parked in a secluded corner of Lake Lanier, the large man made body of water that the town of Blue River sat nestled against. After several more minutes of “tonsil hockey,” Maryse broke their lustful embrace.

“Mike, you are too much for me, I think,” she cooed seductively, giggling as she stared into his eyes.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Mizanin returned, his voice full of false bravado. Deep down, his heart fluttered. Maryse was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and as he was having this conversation with himself, she was leaning in to kiss him on the neck and cheek.

“I’m sure you do, Mike,” Maryse fired back, her hands wandering around Mike’s lap. “You know, though, we Quebecers consider ourselves as much French as Canadian. You have heard this, yes?” Her speech was persistently accented by her lovely accent, and that fact absolutely drove Mike insane.

“Yes, I have,” Mizanin volleyed, unsure where his girlfriend was headed with her line of conversation.

“Well, allow me to demonstrate one of the French’s finest innovations,” Maryse grinned, her hands meeting at Mike’s belt buckle. She began undoing the button to his khaki shorts, while Mizanin stuttered and blushed. He’d never been with a girl as forward as Maryse, and now he was just trying desperately to maintain composure as her lips found his member. After a brief teasing moment, Maryse turned to look at her paramour.

“Fellatio is one of the calling cards of the French,” she intimated, before resuming her activity. For several glorious minutes, her perfectly manicured blonde head bobbed up and down in Mike’s lap. For his part, Mizanin simply leaned his seat further back and enjoyed what was happening.

Which is why neither of the teenage lovebirds noticed the shadowy figure approaching Mike’s car from the passenger side. As Mike neared his climax, his senses were all at once violated by the loud CRACK of gunfire, as the back of Maryse’s head simply exploded all over the young man. Barely a second later, Mike felt the offending bullet penetrate his body dangerously close to his sex organs, causing Mizanin to scream as loudly as he ever had. After only a second or two, a second shot rang out, turning the skull of Blue River High’s reigning offensive player of the year into a jigsaw puzzle covered in brain matter. Mike was dead before he finished sitting up in shock at the sudden demise of his seatmate.

Checking over both shoulders to make sure no one was aware of the shocking tragedy that’d just occurred, the masked figure opened the deceased’s driver’s side door, disengaging the parking brake and posing the two high school students’ bodies in a less provocative position. Finally, the murderous silhouette roughly shoved the small vehicle, causing it to roll downhill toward the massive body of water that represented a simpler time for both of the victims. The unknown assailant watched, cruel sneer across his face, as the Cougar, along with both occupants, sank benignly into the glassy blue oblivion of the state’s largest body of water.


	2. Pilot Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexa's first week continues.

Blood River: Chapter two: Pilot, part 2.

For the first time since she'd left the Ohio psych ward, Alexa Bliss woke up from her night's rest feeling truly refreshed. She hadn't experienced the recurring nightmare that had invaded and violated so many of her previous slumbers, and Alexa figured the only difference between last night and every night preceding was the presence of real friends in her life. She'd come to Georgia devastated and broken, with only a few suitcases of lightly singed clothing, a few pieces of furniture and nicknacks from her childhood home, and her puppy, a loving golden retriever named Macy. Alexa had begged her parents for a dog for years, and they'd finally acquiesced the Christmas previous, with the eager and unrelentingly cute canine running to meet her, red bow around her neck, as she'd descended the stairs to open her Christmas presents. Alexa was overjoyed. She'd spent the first hour of her holiday morning playing with her new best friend on the floor of the massive Bliss family room before snapping out of her euphoric state to dutifully open the rest of her gifts.

Now, just 9 short months later, Macy was the only family member that'd been able to make the trip to Georgia with her. The light brown puppy had warmly greeted Alexa the day she'd been picked up outside the institution in Ohio, and had stalwartly rested her head on her master's thigh during the long drive to Georgia. Even now, as she trudged up the stairs behind the lethargic Alexa Bliss, Macy the puppy couldn't bear being too far from her owner.

Alexa thought it was kind of a stupid tradition that both football players and cheerleaders were expected to wear at least parts of their uniform to school on game days. For her part, the ever-blooming Alexa had woken herself up even earlier than usual, so as to have time to curl her long, vibrant blonde hair with cherry red tips. She noted to herself that she might have to change the color of her hair dye to match her Raiderette uniform, but that that could wait until someone told her she absolutely had to.

One thing Alexa still didn't enjoy was the alarm clock's invasion of her REM cycle. But, as she always did, she arose to face the day with a stoic smile and a deep sigh. In addition to the aforementioned curls, the tiny eye-catching waif went through her complete beauty routine, humming softly along to "Every Morning" by SUGAR RAY.

Thirty minutes later, as she lightly brushed on the remainder of her makeup, Alexa Bliss had to admit to herself that she looked pretty damn good. Giving herself a final "once over," she traipsed from her bathroom, through her room, and up the stairs, Macy following her all the way.

…

As Dean Ambrose and Bayley Martinez negotiated the crowded halls of Blue RIver High, the top story of that day's gossip chain was completely clear; no one seemed to know where Mike Mizanin was. Every member of the formidable Raider football team was required to check in with their position coach as soon as they arrived on campus. Dean had himself gone directly to the coaches office and greeted linebackers coach Billy Gunn. He'd also snatched a donut from a stack of boxes of the pastries, meant for the overworked coaching staff.

That had been several hours ago, before first period. Now, while Dean, Bayley, Alexa, Dana, and several other of their friends sat at rapt attention in their chorus class, the entire school seemed to know that their star quarterback had been a "no show" on the day of the first game of the year.

Ms. McMichael really tried to have a normal class. She'd began them with vocal warmups, and the students actually did try to give their music their full attention, but the young people just weren't capable of any quality output while such insanity was going on. Finally, because it was a Friday and "Ms. Mc" was as tired and distracted by the day's current events as most of her students were, she allowed the pupils to talk quietly amongst themselves while she and a handful of her most trusted students organized sheet music and planned out the fall rehearsal schedule.

Alexa, not knowing much about Mike Mizanin, except that he'd winked at her once after throwing a touchdown pass in the Saturday scrimmage a couple weeks beforehand, abstained from comment about the situation, but in the back of her mind a foreboding sense of dread began to take over. She knew that situations like this rarely ended well. But no one asked her for her opinion, so she didn't offer it. Instead, she listened to Bayley, Dana, and the other girls sitting around her offer their own conjecture as to the whereabouts of Mike and Maryse.

The rest of the school day was simply more of the same. Whispers turned louder as the afternoon paced on. In her afternoon chemistry class, Alexa took her lab stool next to senior cheer captain Trish Stratus. Trish was one of Blue River's most visible, popular students, and she'd taken an immediate liking to Alexa. As Alexa began pulling her needed class materials out of her backpack, raised an eyebrow at Trish's facial expression. Everyone else Alexa had interacted with that day had been somber, almost shocked. Trish was attempting to keep an excited smile off of her face.

"What's up, Trish?"

Stratus glanced down at the surface of her lab table. "I feel bad. I'm worried about Mike. I am. I know him since we're like seven. It's just that Christian is his backup, which means he'll get to start at quarterback tonight."

Alexa knew her lab partner well enough to know that she was referring to her boyfriend, fellow senior Christian Cage. From what she'd gathered, Christian was a good athlete, starting at safety on defense. He also was a standout on the basketball and baseball programs. He'd never in four years, however, had a chance to start at quarterback for the Blue River Raiders. Mike Mizanin had been the picture of consistent excellence, and Cage could never wrest the job away from his competition.

Alexa rolled her eyes. "You're too much, Trish. Everyone else in this school is worried that Mike might be dead and you're psyched for Christian to take the snaps tonight…"

Trish giggled and lowered her eyes. "I know, I'm a terrible person. But Christian has tried SO hard for so long, and he finally gets a chance now."

Trish continued on for a moment, faithfully trumpeting the athletic accolades of her first love. Before too much longer, their teacher broke everyone's string of consciousness by beginning class. Mr. Rotundo, the erstwhile Chemistry instructor, called their attention to the day's assignments on the overhead projector, putting a temporary end to the two girls' discourse.

…..

That's the way the rest of the day went for Dean, Alexa, and the rest of Blue River's student body. There was a "pep rally" just before the end of the day, where the entire school's population cheered and stomped for their team. In a lot of places, such an exercise would've been met with apathy at best, and outright disdain at worst. But not at Blue River. These kids loved their football team, cheerleaders, and all peripherally involved students. The marching band blistered their way through the school fight song, and the Raiders coaching staff introduced the players. Alexa was impressed by the whole process. She also couldn't help but smile when she heard how loudly every girl on the premises seemed to scream for Dean upon his name being called. Other than wide receiver AJ Styles, and maybe starting tailback Apollo Crews, Dean got the loudest reaction of any player introduced that day. He was also the only member of the Titan football team to really bask in the attention.

The crowd dispersed at the 330 bell. Most of them were headed home to paint their faces, change into their blue and silver, and otherwise prepare themselves for that night's key gridiron showdown with the crosstown villains from Central. The athletes stayed on campus to prepare. The offense really needed the repetition, especially with Mizanin still MIA.

First though, there was an early dinner for the team. Generally, on game days, the entire squad remained in silence from the time they entered the locker room after school. It wasn't always easy, and Dean didn't always see the point, but it was one of the most sacred of traditions, and so week after week, the young men pretended to focus on the task at hand, though their minds were almost assuredly anywhere else.

As it always was, the meal was chicken, green beans, a baked potato, and pineapple. The players stood in line silently, first the starters, then the non-starting seniors, then everyone else. Dean found himself about third from the front. He strode through the queue, staring straight ahead as the volunteers from the booster club filled his tray with nourishment for him. Finally he reached the other end of his journey, where some of the cheerleaders were gathered to hand each athlete in line a gatorade and a smile. The football schedule could be a grind, and it was always nice for these overworked, anxious kids to exchange a greeting and a grin with a pretty girl before returning to their sequestering. As Dean approached, Alexa's heart skipped at least a half beat.

"Tea or water, Dean?" She asked, hoping to sound sweet but not anxious. He smiled, almost sadly.

"It doesn't matter. Tea. Is it sweet?"

Alexa nodded. "Of course. It is Georgia, right?" She laughed slightly before handing him a tall styrofoam cup filled with opaque brown liquid. He winked at her, trying to establish a casual connection without again breaking his informal vow of silence. He accepted her offering in gratitude, before moving on.

Alexa glanced quickly to either side of her person, making sure none of her cheerleader compatriots caught a whiff of what was happening between her and the erstwhile renaissance man. To her great dismay, however, she caught the gaze of AJ Lee, the other "flyer" on the Blue River Raiderette squad. AJ closed the gap between the two girls before beginning her line of conversation.

"I saw that, Lexi," she began. "He likes you. He looks at you like Baron looked at me before we started going out."

Alexa scoffed, attempting to downplay the effect Dean was having on her. "You think? I think he's just being friendly because his step-sister is like my new best friend."

AJ suppressed a giggle. "No way. I can tell. He likes you a lot. And I think you like him, too."

Alexa shook her head, though not with as much gusto as she might've liked. "I don't like him. I don't NOT like him, but I barely know him."

Now the waifish brunette rolled her eyes. "Yeah right. I could tell. It's the softness in both your eyes. You two look at each other like you're in a greeting card commercial. He's gonna ask you to fall carnival, if he doesn't make a move sooner. You should give him a shot."

Alexa rolled her eyes. "Everyone has an opinion on my love life. I've told you a hundred and twelve times that I'm not ready to date."

AJ giggled and shook her head. "I think you're over-complicating things. Dean's hot, kind, and talented. And he likes you. I'm not saying accept a promise ring from him, but if he asks you to dance at Brock's party tonight, you should."

Alexa nodded, now just wishing this conversation was over. "I'll think about it, AJ." Her friend meant well. Alexa knew that. AJ had been among the first to get to know Alexa at a level deeper than "surface" since she'd come to Blue RIver, and her congenial nature had immediately endeared her to Alexa.

"Good, that's all I ask. He's like the most decent boy at this school." She giggled. "I had SUCH a big crush on him in the ninth grade. Then we were cast as romantic opposites in 'West Side Story' and we kissed in front of hundreds of people. We became too close to ever really date. He's a babe, though. Handsome, talented. Good athlete. His dad is the coolest. Seriously. The coolest."

"Maybe I should go after his dad, then," Alexa quipped.

AJ rolled her eyes. "You avoid this all you want, Lexi, but Dean likes you. And he's quality. Just have an open mind, okay?"

All Alexa Bliss really wanted was for this to be over. "Okay, AJ," she returned, more to change the subject than anything else.

The two young women continued their task with a smile, trying to make sure every athlete was greeted warmly and heard a kind word. The sweet grin of Alexa Bliss made an indelible impression on several of the young men in that line, but only one of Blue River's athletes made an impression on Alexa Bliss. And it concerned the waifish blonde how indelible a mark the presence of Dean Ambrose had etched in such a short time.

….

Head Coach Arn Anderson was an institution at Blue River High. He'd been the steady hand at the wheel for the school's football program for just short of three decades, and the 1998-99 team might've been his most talented one yet. There was just one issue; his All- State quarterback was nowhere to be found.

The news of Mizanin's disappearance hadn't yet made news, as the local police were still making efforts to find him. His parents were out of town, in their Tuscan villa for another two weeks, so there was no pressure from family to find Mike. Which was tragic in and of its own right, but that did mean that there was no outraged loved ones calling the newspapers and blaming the police for moving so slowly.

It also meant that the disappearance itself could be kept very quiet. And Coach Anderson, against maybe all conventional wisdom, planned to exploit that. After warming up his players, he pulled aside Johnny Curtis, a sophomore Wide Receiver who was around the same size and left handed like Mizanin.

For those who are unfamiliar with the procedure involving the leadup to a prep football game, most schools take a roughly twelve minute period for their first team offense to run plays. There is no defense and no contact. Instead, it mostly serves as a chance to make sure everyone involved knows the offense and is prepared. Coach Anderson sent Curtis out in Mizanin's jersey and equipment to run the first half of the period, giving the appearance that the star player was in fact present for the game. While that slight-of-hand was going on in plain view, Christian Cage remained in the fieldhouse, being prepped for his first start at quarterback by Coach Huffman and Coach Steamboat.

"Are you sure this is even allowed?" Another of Anderson's assistants asked.

"Truthfully, I have no idea," the grizzled coach quipped. "But I know we need the element of surprise on this. Better they think Miz is gonna play. That way when we catch them off guard with Christian, they won't have prepped."

And it was true. The team headed back to the locker room, then ran out onto the field through a twenty foot high banner that read "The Road to Glory Starts Here!" Curtis, as he was instructed, spent a few minutes tossing the football with a starting Wide Receiver, as did Cage.

Finally, it was time for kickoff. The team captains; Brock Lesnar, Senior running back Apollo Crews, and Ambrose, made their way from the sideline to midfield where a crew of officials awaited them. Alexa watched Dean saunter toward the coin toss with a growing sense of attraction to him. If she were being honest with herself, she would acknowledge that her affinity for the boy had already gone from "Silly crush" to something far deeper. However, tonight was not a night for honesty. Not from Alexa and not from the Blue River coaching staff.

Johnny Curtis never actually took the field as Mike Mizanin. There was some curiosity amongst those in the Blue River crowd of spectators as to why Mizanin hadn't been one of the captains sent out to midfield. It would've been more conspicuous that the starting quarterback for the Blue River Raiders wasn't one of the representatives sent to determine who would start the game with the ball and who would have that right to start the second half. As it was, Apollo Crews would be doing the talking for his team.

As he'd been told by his coaches, Crews chose "tails" for the coin toss. Blue River won, and elected to defer their choice until the second half.

"Defense first," Roman Reigns thought to himself. This decision was smart for a number of reasons. First, the Raiders defensive unit was stout. Their line was big and athletic, anchored by Reigns himself and Bobby Lashley at End and Titus O'Neil and Brock Lesnar in the middle at Tackle. The Linebackers were fast and tenacious. Dean Ambrose served as the unit's leader on the field, and he had four or five close friends to rotate in around him.

The game started as one would anticipate. Adam Page, Central High's Quarterback, led his team onto the field for their first offensive series. Alexa, when she wasn't trying desperately to recall all the new routines she'd learned over the summer, watched Dean Ambrose with great interest. And her focus paid off almost immediately. In the middle of a chant urging the defense on, Alexa's countenance lifted immensely as she watched her Dean sack the overconfident Page for a big loss on second down.

"MY Dean?" She thought to herself as she bit her lip in apprehension. She'd talked to the boy all of a half dozen times in the week since she'd met him, and that included their car ride to Ryder's Grill together. The level of attraction she felt to a young man she'd just met absolutely terrified her, and the effect of seeing him violently collide with a rival was arousing to Alexa in ways she didn't like talking aloud about. A raucous cheer rose from the grandstands as Ambrose and Page smashed together, and Ambrose stood over Page's body. Alexa couldn't make out what Dean was saying, but she couldn't imagine it was pleasant in any way. As discretely as such an act could be done, Alexa glanced over at Sasha Banks, who was pouting in the student section, her arms folded across her chest as two of her minions attempted to comfort her. The pink-haired girl was sporting Raider blue, but also conspicuously displayed a large pin with Adam Page's football picture on her chest. Alexa had gathered that it was a local tradition for the romantic interest of any boy on the team to wear their pin on game nights. AJ Lee, Alexa's most steadfast friend on the cheer squad, prominently showcased Baron Corbin's portrait on her uniform. Alicia Fox wore Apollo Crews' pin on her shirt, and Alexa could see dozens of girls and parents on the sideline and in the stands wearing the pictures of the player they supported the most steadfastly.

A tight, low-scoring battle ensued. Trish Stratus watched tentatively as Christian Cage gamely led the Raider offense to the best of his abilities. He was aided by an entire rotation of talented offensive personnel, led by Apollo Crews and wide receiver Adam Copeland. The Raiders roster was chock filled with big, talented players, and this was clear every time the offensive unit took the field. Cage had been implored by his coaches to get the ball in the hands of the playmakers around him, and that's what he did, though the stout defense of the Central High Buccaneers made the sledding tough. One thing Cage had working in his favor was a stable of talented, fast, physical running backs to lighten the load for him. In addition to Apollo Crews, whose accolades were so numerous that the coaching staff at Blue River had often joked about giving him his own wall in the athletic building, there was freshman sensation Cedric Alexander. His handful of touches per game were often electrifying, and word of his natural ability spread through the football-mad community quickly. There was sophomore Xavier Woods, steady, quick, and sure-handed. He often subbed in on passing downs, and played some wide receiver too. Finally, there was Bobby Lashley, who was the short yardage power back, entering the game to pick up the brutal yards needed on third down to sustain drives. Coach Anderson and his staff made it perfectly clear to Christian Cage that all he was expected to do was manage the game. Get the ball into the hands of the talent on Blue River's offensive team. Don't make any stupid mistakes that would lead to a loss. Be smart. Keep possession of the ball for as long as possible.

These were all the tenets of the religion of Blue River Raider football. And Christian Cage was as devout a follower as could be found. He managed the huddle well, echoing the coach's play call with a resolute confidence befitting a senior leader. And early on, the strategy paid off. Blue River scored their first touchdown early, with the aforementioned Alexander catching a short pass from Cage, cuing the band and causing a raucous reaction from the home crowd.

Alexa smiled broadly while taking in the sights and sounds of her first game in her new home. Friday night football had been one of her primary joys in Ohio, and losing herself in the sights and sounds of something so familiar was insanely fulfilling to her. Over one shoulder, she could turn and see her Aunt Mickie, sitting with the Ryders, who'd come to support their son Zack in his efforts as a starting wideout for the home squad. Over the other, she could see her other new legal guardian, John Cena, patrolling the sideline in uniform. A second crescendo teemed from the rollicking home fans, and Alexa turned in rapt attention. Her gaze focused just in time to see Dean Ambrose intercept his nemesis and run with the ball into the end zone. She couldn't help but let out a lood whoop as she watched him cross the goal line and let her grin go wide as she watched the boy she was getting to know celebrate with his teammates.

That was all the scoring for a while. Central could manage only three field goals in the first half, and Blue River took a 14-9 lead into the break.

Halftime was a chance for Alexa to take a little respite from the commotion. There were a lot of things happening around her, and it stood in stark contrast to the sterile and nearly silent environment of the institution she'd called home before moving to Georgia. She waved to her Aunt, who gestured for her to join her in the bleachers. The tiny blonde checked the halftime countdown clock. "Eighteen minutes," she observed. The Marching Raider band was well into their halftime show. Alexa was pretty sure it was "sounds of the seventies" or something, because "Stayin' Alive" by THE BEEGEES was blaring from the collective instrumental voices of the proud Raider band.

She visited with her aunt for a precious few moments. Mickie had bought her a hot chocolate, though it wasn't cold enough outside to really warrant it, and Alexa sipped it gingerly while Mickie validated the effort her niece was putting in.

"You are absolutely killing it, Lexi. I think you're the best cheerleader on the squad. Cutest, too."

Alexa rolled her eyes, but she couldn't suppress the grin from forming on her face. "Stop, Mickie. I'm just trying to keep up. These girls are serious. At my old school it was all preppy girls with one or two real tumbling athletes. These girls could all be playing volleyball or basketball or something."

Mickie snickered. "Yeah, they take it seriously here. All sports, really. Fine arts, music. Anything where there's a trophy, Blue River students are trying to win it."

Alexa pondered this for a moment before nodding, as though she'd worked out in her head what Mickie was saying. In the background, the marching band switched to "When the Levee Breaks" by LED ZEPPELIN. Alexa gave Mickie a sad smile. The album this song was from, Led Zeppelin IV, was Alexa's mom's absolute favorite, and the reminder that she wasn't living with her mom anymore sobered the tiny blonde slightly.

"I know, baby," Mickie intimated, almost in a whisper. "Monica loved Led Zep." She slid an arm around her niece's slight shoulders, pulling her close to him.

Alexa nodded, trying desperately to distract attention from the tears welling in her eyes. In that moment, she missed her mom more than she thought it was possible to miss anyone, and feeling so far away from her family wasn't helping her fight loneliness. She'd made some friends in Blue River, sure. Bayley. Trish Stratus. AJ. Sarah Logan. Dana Brooke. Kaitlyn Bonin. Layla El.

And Dean. Even now, as she was sharing a few moments with her aunt, her crush on the talented junior pervaded her consciousness. Which both thrilled and crushed the blonde. She felt like she was cheating on Buddy, though she'd left their relationship behind in Ohio, and she knew he would want her to be happy wherever she was. The other part of her was cautiously optimistic about the chance at the happiness that evaded her for so long.

Sensing something was going on in her niece's troubled mind, her aunt leaned into the small girl even more.

"Dean's playing well," she mused, anxious to see her ward's reaction.

Alexa rolled her eyes, though she couldn't prevent the color from washing over her face. It was a bit unnerving to Lex how thoroughly transparent she was regarding her schoolgirl infatuation with the broad shouldered boy who'd given her a ride to Ryder's Grill that fateful evening after the first day of school.

"Shut up, Mickie, someone is gonna hear you!" Alexa insisted, though she really wasn't convinced anyone was listening.

Mickie threw a gentle elbow into the waifish young woman's ribs. "I'm just kidding. Even though I could see you staring at him."

Alexa's eyes grew wide. "Really?"

Mickie grinned wickedly. "No, but now that you admit you like him…"

Alexa popped her favorite Aunt on the leg, causing a laugh to erupt from Mickie.

"I do not 'like' him, Mickie. I don't really know him. He seems sweet, but I'm not ready for that yet." Her eyes started welling with tears, the emotions within her teeming to the surface.

"I know, sweetie," Mickie cooed in return, continuing to "rock" Alexa back and forth with her arm around the smaller girl. "I know what happened was horrible. And you don't need to push yourself into anything. Just...let life happen. You didn't think you wanted to cheerlead anymore and look at you now." Mickie gestured toward the track directly in front of the bleachers, where Alexa and her teammates had been plying their craft. "You're kicking so much ass here."

Both girls giggled. "Yeah, I guess I got back on that horse, huh?" Alexa fired back playfully, as her aunt handed her a paper cup filled with warm apple cider. It wasn't cold yet in Georgia, but it was cooling off considerably at night, and Alexa drank the sweet nectar with gusto, feeling the warmth all the way down her ribcage.

"Yummy," Alexa mused, grinning.

"Look at you, Ms. 'Egg Whites and Honey,'" Mickie fired back. She'd noticed, with great relish, how Alexa's eating habits were changing as she let her guard down around her new friends. Alexa blushed again, her infectious smile growing even wider. She shrugged, trying to deflect the praise for her aunt.

They spoke a few more minutes. As did the marching band and other students involved with gameday presentation that weren't actually playing the game, Alexa and her fellow cheerleaders had the first half of the third quarter off. AS such, Alexa opted to spend most of that time with her favorite Aunt, although she also spoke with the Ryders. They were nice, if a bit loud, and Alexa got the distinct feeling that Zack's mom was trying to get her to see her son as a potential match. She smiled politely and nodded as Mrs. Ryder talked about her son's GPA and football prowess, but Alexa had no interest in the spike- haired receiver. From her limited interactions with the boy, he seemed more interested in Dana Brooke, although Alexa also guessed he hadn't told his mother about the softball player. For what it was worth, Alexa had seen her buxom friend cavorting with Nia Jax and Charlotte Flair in the student section of the home bleachers, and shared a smile and a brief wave with her. Alexa liked Dana, more than she liked most of the students she'd met at Blue River, and getting a smile from her made Alexa's day just a little bit better.

Finally, after exchanging pleasantries with the Ryders and briefly allowing her Aunt Mickie to make small touch ups to her hair and makeup, Alexa returned to her post, doggedly determined to perform as she had in Ohio; at the highest standards and without any outward fatigue.

…

The second half of the football game went much as the first half did. Christian Cage led his team admirably, if not totally skillfully, and before long Blue River had a commanding 27-9 lead over their rivals. It made Alexa happy to see Trish so thoroughly proud of what her man ended up accomplishing on that fateful first game, though the prevailing thought on everyone's mind was still "what on God's earth happened to Mike Mizanin?"

The question no one had to ask, however, was where Dean Ambrose was. Because he was everywhere. In the offensive backfield, cheering for his teammates on the sideline, he even hopped the fence between the stands and the field to go buy a hot chocolate while his team was on offense, drawing a laugh from his captive audience and a loud admonishment from Coach Anderson.

As the final horn sounded, and a loud cheer rose from the home bleachers at the cumulative announcement of Blue River's 38-12 victory, Alexa blushed. Her teammates all around her were embracing, and she currently found herself between Trish Stratus and AJ Lee as they jumped up and down in a circle. Alexa had underestimated how excited the entire town would be over a victory as decisive and dominant as this one was. What she couldn't hide, however, was her level of excitement at getting to socialize after the huge win. She grinned at Bayley, who'd rocked the halftime show with her rendition of the guitar solo on "Free Bird." She waved at Trish, who was busy congratulating her boyfriend Christian Cage on his first win as the starting varsity quarterback at Blue River. Before she could vacate the premises, however, her stream of consciousness was interrupted by the raspy, confident, warbling voice of Dean Ambrose.

"Hey! Tinkerbell!" He called, knowing that his loud greeting would draw the blonde sprite's attention.

She turned, trying her best not to look too desperate for his approval.

"Yeah?" She returned, sassy smirk plastered deliberately across her cherubic face.

Dean jogged closer, his right hand gripping his facemask, allowing him to carry his helmet in his hand.

"We're having a big victory party at Brock's tonight. My band is playing, Bayley is DJ-ing between sets. I'll be doing a shot every ten minutes until I pass out. It'd be pretty dope if you showed up. I'll introduce you around if you want. You can be my date."

Alexa's eyes narrowed slightly as she processed what Dean was saying. "Your date?"

Dean rolled his eyes and shrugged. "Not like a date as in like, kiss me or jerk me off or anything. Just tell people you're with me in case they try to get too much out of you."

Alexa hesitated. This was a BIG step. Even in Ohio, where she was a big deal, she'd always been apprehensive about aggressive partying. Her mom had always lectured her about her reputation and how it was the most important attribute she could have. Before she could respond, however, he saw the glowing form of her aunt in her peripheral vision. Mickie was nodding, an excited smile across her face, as Alexa considered the offer.

"Ok," she agreed, cautiously, "but that just means we arrive together and leave together. And maybe you get a dance. Maybe. If you're lucky." She winked playfully at her would-be suitor, as Mickie tried her best not to jump out of her skin for joy at what she was seeing. Her traumatized niece was finally socializing with her peers.

"Hey, what're you trying to do? Tie me down? I'm not ready for that yet." He feigned an air of hesitance. "I dunno, maybe this isn't such a good idea."

Alexa rolled her eyes. "I'm almost positive it isn't, but my aunt Mickie thinks I'm going to end up cloistered in my room for the rest of my time here if I don't immediately go out and make every friend possible as soon as possible, so I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt." As she said this, she raised the volume of her voice loudly enough for aunt Mickie to hear, glancing over to make eye contact with her and lifting her eyebrows as if to say "happy now?" It galled Alexa somewhat when all she got in response from the older woman was a grin and an enthusiastic nod.

"That's probably not smart," Dean retorted, before chuckling. "Tell you what. I'm gonna go up and shower. Change my clothes. Shouldn't take long. Meet me at my truck in what, fifteen? Twenty?"

Alexa pondered this. This schedule wouldn't allow her to wash her hair, but she could always do that tomorrow. "Besides," she mused to herself, "maybe sweaty hair will keep him off of me." It immediately struck Alexa that the notion of him staying away from her was causing a queasy feeling of dread from a certain part of her. Every time she was around him or thought about him, there was a part of her body that tried to take the wheel of her collective being.

"Twenty works. Don't make me wait." With that, she turned on a bit of the haughty charm she'd been famous for in her previous life, spinning on her wheels and flipping her hair as she strode away confidently. Dean, for his part, just stood there with a bewildered snicker on his face.

…

The ride out to Lesnar's Farm was only slightly less awkward than the ride home Dean had given Alexa earlier in the week. At least, that's how it started. They made choppy small talk for a few minutes, with Dean telling the story of how Bayley's mom met his dad and made them a blended family, and Alexa sharing selected portions of her childhood in Ohio, conveniently leaving out any of the last two years. Part of Dean wanted to broach the subject, but he got the sense that there was a lot of pain associated with whatever had brought her to live in Georgia with her aunt, so he tread carefully.

Finally, the ice broke. Dean had sung along to the radio tens of thousands of times in front of Sasha, to make her smile or roll her eyes or coo with affection, but he hadn't even realized he was doing it when Alexa burst forth with a quick barrage of laughter.

"You like this song?" Dean asked, grateful to have found an "in" with his blonde passenger. As they spoke, SMASHMOUTH's "All Star" drove through the speakers of Dean's trusty SUV, brightening the mood of both occupants.

Alexa shrugged. "It's okay. It's funny when you sing it, though."

Dean tried not to blush as he tried to figure out if the tiny blonde cheerleader he was so infatuated with had just admitted to liking his singing or not. For her part, Alexa was mortified. In her mind, she'd just confessed to enjoying Dean's singing. And while she did, she didn't need him to know that at that moment.

"I heard you can sing, too," Dean returned, trying to sound as detached as he wished to appear.

Alexa shrugged. "I used to sing a lot more in Ohio. I'm mostly in chorus now because it was better than taking Home Ec or whatever bullshit class the non artsy kids have to endure."

Dean chuckled. "Bullshit is right. Bayley sits next to you and she says you sing like a bird. What're you trying to hide?"

Alexa shook her head, rolling her eyes at the same time. Of course Bayley would sell her out. "I'm not hiding anything," Alexa countered. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to make my Georgia debut yet."

Dean nodded, then shrugged nonchalantly. "You could sing and play a couple with us tonight. Roman and Zack and I can all follow really well, and Bayley's the queen of improv. She's the queen of everything, where music is concerned."

Alexa laughed. "I heard. Dana was saying she's basically Dave Navarro."

Dean scoffed. "Fuck him. She's waaay past Dave Navarro."

"Really?" Now Alexa was just impressed. She'd heard all week about what a virtuoso Bayley was on the guitar, and she'd briefly seen proof of this during the halftime show, but that comparison was one that did Bayley no favors.

Dean nodded again, more solemnly this time. "Bayley can fuckin' play." He heard himself use the expletive in front of this girl before he could stop himself. "Sorry," he blurted out. "Sasha swore like a tatted up sailor and I'm just used to it."

Alexa suppressed her laugh long enough to wave a hand dismissively. "It's fine. Buddy used to swear a lot."

Dean nodded, though he wasn't sure he followed completely. "And Buddy was your boyfriend in Ohio?"

Alexa shook her head in the affirmative, a lonely tear forming from the corner of her right eye. "He was. Right up until I left…" She trailed off, trying not to let the memories overwhelm her.

Dean tried his best to mask how deeply seeing this girl get emotional affected him.

"Rough breakup?"

Alexa snickered through the budding waterworks. "You could say that." She paused, before exhaling deeply and turning toward her would-be chauffeur. "Let's talk about something else. I would love to play with y'all tonight. Do you guys know 'Kiss Me?'"

"The Sixpence song?" Dean responded. "I do. I think Bayley does. Roman can follow along pretty much by ear. Zack too."

"Zack's in your band?" Alexa asked, almost incredulously.

Dean nodded again. "Yeah, he started playing piano when he was a kid. After a year or so his parents started making him play at their restaurants on Sundays. All the old people go there after church and they just made the biggest deal out of cute little Zackie with his spiked hair…"

He trailed off, turning onto the long dirt road that led to the Lesnar family Compound. Alexa was surprised at how far Brock and his family lived from the school, but Dean had mentioned something about how big the zone that fed into Blue River High actually was. As the northernmost high school in the county, the stalwart institution of education was responsible for the bulk of the farm kids that resided near the less populated end of the massive Lake Lanier and river that fed into it.

"Almost there," Dean mumbled. "We come out to this farmhouse all the time. Mr. Lesnar keeps this barn even though he doesn't deal in animals anymore. So know the band practices there and we all hang out after home games. Sometimes it's a party."

Alexa chuckled. "And why wouldn't it be a party all the time?"

Dean shook his head and grinned wryly. "Sometimes Roman's brother can't get us a keg."

Alexa laughed loudly. "It's that kinda party, eh? You know my legal guardian is married to a sheriff's deputy, right?"

Dean didn't know this, and the color actually left his face slightly as he processed this information. After a full five count of silence, he snickered, regaining his composure.

"I'll turn this car right around, Bliss, then neither of us can have any fun."

Ordinarily, Alexa wouldn't have been okay with Dean being so familiar so fast, but she was trying VERY hard to leave her normal comfort zone behind and move past the trauma of Ohio.

She giggled and grinned, but before she had a response fully formed, Dean pulled his SUV to a stop.

"We're here," he announced softly, throwing the gear shift into "park" and making sure he had everything he needed. He turned toward Alexa. "So, the band's gonna go on pretty soon. Like, as soon as we're sure everyone's here and gets a chance to tune up and run a quick sound check. I have an extra guitar if you need it. Do you play?"

Alexa smiled, the tight lipped, enthusiasm-disguising type of smile she hadn't gotten to use in some time, before nodding. "Yeah. I haven't played in front of anyone in a long time, but I do play."

Dean grinned and grunted his approval. "Good shit." He popped his door open, then sprung to the passenger side of his well-worn SUV to release Alexa.

"Thank you," she cooed politely, enjoying flirting with Dean but not ready to commit to more. She hopped down daintily and followed her escort into the spacious outbuilding.

…..

Alexa could immediately see why this particular space was so appealing for the students of Blue River High. The Lesnar barn stood tall in a sea of harvested cotton plants, it's bright lights appearing like a lighthouse over the wavy plain that so painstakingly nurtured the Lesnar crop every year. Even from outside, the tiny blonde could hear the booming bass of whatever PA was currently set up. Dean slid the barn door open, as though he were Dorothy revealing Oz, it's color in sharp contrast to the world she was living in. The offending song was "Brass Monkey" by THE BEASTIE BOYS, and as she took in the sight of her new schoolmates in their party environment for the first time, she could feel the release that came from a party of this magnitude.

The moment she breached the doorway, Alexa immediately felt a comforting rush of familiarity rush over her. This was exactly the same as every barn party she'd ever been to in her hometown of Columbus. Almost instantly, she saw the grinning face of Dana Brooke light up with recognition.

"Hi, Lexi!" The stout blonde called from her spot some ten feet away.

Alexa returned her smile and gave a polite finger wave in return. It was still overwhelming for her at times just how friendly everyone here seemed to be. She'd heard from Mickie about "southern hospitality," but it appeared that it was much more than just a clever saying. To her great surprise, these kids she'd met this week truly appeared to want to be her friend.

"You coming?" Dean asked, breaking Alexa's trance. He snickered back at her. It was another of Dean's facial expressions that Alexa was finding maddeningly attractive.

"Yeah," she returned, following him across the room.

Behind the eighteen inch lifted platform that the Lesnars used as a stage, Dean's band gathered for their brief pre-show meeting. Bayley had allowed fellow student and friend Alex Riley to take over the DJ booth temporarily so she could speak with her friends. After an awkward moment where Alexa just kinda stood there awkwardly, Dean gestured her over.

"Guys, you've all met Alexa, right?" Dean inquired, glancing from one face in the tight circle to the next.

Everyone nodded in the affirmative. "Hey," the tiny blonde offered quietly.

Dean continued. "She's gonna play a song with us tonight. Y'all know 'Kiss Me' by SIXPENCE NONE THE RICHER, right?"

Roman nodded. "Yeah."

Bayley grinned. "I like that one."

Dean snickered again. "Zack, you brought your accordion, right?"

The spiky-haired keyboard player nodded. "Sure did. Thought you might wanna play a bit around the bonfire later, so I packed it. I'll go get it while you guys soundcheck."

Dean nodded and smiled again. "Beautiful. Lex, I guess do the first verse and chorus by yourself so we hear all the chord changes. You can play my guitar if you want. I think Bayley brought one, too. You can try them both out in a few if you want."

Alexa smiled, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her. "Okay. What are you gonna play?"

"I'll play keys on that song, just lay down some organ since Zack is playing the accordion line. You play rhythm, let Bayley do the heavy lifting on guitar, yeah?"

Try as she might not to be, Alexa was super impressed by Dean's leadership. As hard a time as his friends seemed to give him about the band's name, they all seemed more than willing to follow him into metaphorical combat. The charismatic young man brushed the hair from his eyes and continued addressing the troops.

"Everything else we do exactly like we practiced all summer." He turned toward another of his friends, the long-haired safety from the football team that Alexa knew as "Seth." "Seth," Dean continued, "don't pass out on us this time. Would be a real bitch to try to play all these songs without drums."

Seth rolled his eyes. "Dude, that was one time."

"We've only had one concert outside of school, genius," Dean spat. "And Brock will fucking filet me if we shit ourselves tonight. Does anyone here feel like shitting themselves?"

The boys in the huddle chuckled, and Bayley rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot, Dean."

"I know," Dean returned with a smirk. "But you have to love me. I'm family."

Bayley, without speaking, shook her head in mild disbelief. Dean looked around and continued. "Okay, let's get this soundcheck knocked out so we don't have to keep our adoring public waiting any longer than is necessary, cool?"

Roman chuckled. "You don't lack for confidence, do you, Dean?"

"Nope," the sneering linebacker retorted. "Okay, let's kick the tires and light the fires, bitches."

Seth turned to Zack Ryder incredulously. "Did he just quote Independence Day?"

Ryder laughed loudly at his friend's audacity. "He sure as shit did."

With no further discussion, the small huddle broke and began their final prep for the first concert they'd played since the previous spring.

….

Alexa was in love. Not with a boy, or girl, but with the extra guitar Bayley had brought to the spacious Lesnar barn to serve as a backup in case her primary instrument broke a string or otherwise malfunctioned. It was a gorgeous color; electric blue body with a standard ash wooden neck. The tuning head bore the instrument's manufacturing brand; G&L. And it played as though Alexa herself had pulled it from a stone, fulfilling her ancient destiny. She'd tried Dean's guitar first, but the neck of his Fender Telecaster was so wide in her tiny hands that it may as well have been made for Dennis Rodman. She'd wanted to use his, if she were being honest. It was a way to establish a connection with him without any physical intimacy. But Bayley's guitar was a total dream machine, and Alexa was stumped as to why the virtuoso didn't use it as her primary weapon. But that wasn't her business, and so she simply took a position by the side of the stage with Roman's girlfriend, who plastered the fakest smile Alexa had ever seen. The two exchanged brief pleasantries, but the tiny blonde got the distinct impression that Natalya resented not being the only hot blonde in that corner of the spacious barn.

With a jarring start, Elohssa began their eager set with "Lump" by THE PRESIDENTS OF THE USA. Almost immediately, the crowd turned their attention to their schoolmates, who really had improved vastly since their last public appearance. The first thing Alexa noticed was how confident and comfortable Dean seemed leading a band. The first thing Dean noticed, other than how much Seth Rollins had improved his skills on the drums, was that Alexa seemed incredibly interested in their musical stylings. "Lump" wasn't a very long song, and so they went directly into their second number before the enthusiastic applause had even died down. That song was a callback to Dean's "breakthrough" performance from the ninth grade. As an anonymous freshman who was dying to make an impression, Ambrose had entered the Spirit Week talent show, and showed up in a suit identical to the one Michael J. Fox had worn to the "Enchantment under the Sea" dance in Back to the Future. Without any warning, he'd led the house backup band through a blistering, note-perfect rendition of "Johnny B. Goode." Now, he found himself doing the exact same thing, even using Marty McFly's line from the movie to introduce the song. "This next one is kind of an oldie. At least, it's an oldie where I come from." Alexa, herself a huge movie buff, got a kick out of Ambrose's attention to the almost sacred source material. Dean turned to his friends manning instruments behind him, speaking again in the exact words Michael J. Fox had uttered to Marvin Berry and the Starlighters. "Ok fellas, this is a blues riff in B, watch me for the changes, and try and keep up, okay?" He then launched into the most recognizable opening guitar riff in American pop music history. That song also only lasted three and a half minutes, and that included guitar solos from both Bayley and Dean. That performance drew even more applause from the audience of students, which had grown in the last few minutes. Song number three was a surprise to almost everyone, as bassist Roman Reigns stepped in front of his microphone and drew the adulation of every female in the crowd with his charismatic rendition of "Save Tonight" by EAGLE EYE CHERRY. No one would mistake Roman for a world class vocalist, but his singing was strong and clear, and he was on pitch, so the response he got from his sly baritone delivery was beyond what they'd expected.

Dean took the next song. It was his favorite song from one of his favorite bands; "Buddy Holly" by WEEZER. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Dean glanced over at Alexa during the pre-chorus, when the lyrics went to "woo hoo, and you know I'm yours," winking at her, as though he was sharing the funniest joke in the world. The waifish blonde fought with all her might against her blushing reflex, before receiving a knowing elbow to the ribs from Dana Brooke, who'd come to stand with her. Dana was having trouble disguising her crush on Zack Ryder, and so Alexa at least felt like she had a kindred spirit in that respect.

To that point, the surprise of the evening was the performance Bayley gave during the song she ended up singing. JOAN JETT & THE BLACKHEARTS' "Hit Me With Your Best Shot." For someone who swore up and down that she wasn't a singer, the eager and able Martinez belted her vocal with an earnest confidence that belied her lack of experience as a lead vocalist. As soon as that tooth-rattling tune was finished, the entire venue exploded in loud, sustained applause for maybe the friendliest and most talented student at Blue River High.

Dean looked over at Alexa, gesturing with his head that she should join them on stage. As she tuned Bayley's guitar, kicking her feet firmly against the pedals Dean had given her to use for her song, the young lead singer of the band introduced their guest.

"So, uh, guys, this is Alexa. I think most of you have met her. She's a cheerleader, and apparently she also plays a pretty mean guitar, so she's gonna do this next song with us. Everybody okay with that?"

The room exploded into spontaneous clapping and cheering, which made Alexa feel even more welcome. Part of her wondered if she should say something before she began playing her song, but ultimately she decided just to start playing. The recorded version of the song called for a twelve string guitar, but Alexa found that with one of the pedals on Dean's board she could actually replicate that sound. She began her singing, a breathy soprano made softer than normal by her nervousness. She made all of her guitar chord changes perfectly, as she'd done so many times in her own bedroom in Ohio or her aunt Mickie's basement. At the end of the first chorus, after she sang the words "so kiss me," she winked over at Dean, who'd taken a position behind Zack's keyboard. Ryder, for his part, was playing an accordion over on the side of the stage closest to Dana Brooke. Alexa reminded herself internally to ask Zack how he'd come into taking up the eclectic instrument.

It wasn't like Dean to get flustered by a gesture as innocent as a wink, but he'd had to remind himself what instrument he was playing when Alexa had done it. "What the fuck," he muttered internally. "Get your shit together, Ambrose." After Alexa finished the second chorus, Bayley rocked a brief solo, then the tiny blonde began the lyrics to the chorus again.

By the time the song ended, Alexa had the crowd eating from the palm of her hand. Her genteel nature and sweet voice had won over even her most ardent of critics. After the applause died down, Dean informed the crowd that the band would be taking a break. Secretly, he was hoping that people would start leaving the party soon, so that Elohssa wouldn't have to re-take the stage. Their first real concert had gone well, and Dean saw zero need to push their luck. Luckily for them, as the clock drifted further and further past midnight, most of the tertiary students began trickling out the barn doors in groups of two and three, hoping against hope to beat the county-wide curfew of one am for minors. Finally, Brock gave Dean the signal that their night was done. Dean breathed a huge sigh of relief before slowly making his way to the stage to pack his guitar and the rest of his equipment.

As he finished, Brock Lesnar beckoned him to the back sliding door that separates the interior of the barn from the sprawling circular firepit area that the few invited students would be occupying in a few minutes.

"'Sup?" Dean inquired, puzzled as to what Brock Lesnar could possibly want at this hour.

"Look," Brock returned, clearly showing signs of fatigue. "I've been working Charlotte all week. She seems...affectionate right now." As he spoke those words, both boys glanced over at the Amazonian blonde, who was occupying herself by cleaning up the snack table with Dana and Nia.

"So?" Dean countered.

"So, get your acoustic out and play some songs while we cozy up to these chicks, man. I know you want a shot at getting close to that tiny little blonde chick you've been hollering at all week."

"Yes, yes I do," Dean acquiesced.

"Okay then, motherfucker," Brock returned. "The keg is still pretty intact. Most folks just drank the shit they brought. Let's pour some fresh beers and try to get it going with these fine-ass ladies."

Brock had a point. Dean hated admitting it, because when Brock was right about something, it usually meant someone was going to get punched in the fucking face.

That thought made Dean chuckle to himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bayley meandering toward the stage with an acoustic guitar case in each hand, making her way slowly toward where Dean was coiling cable and casing his electric instruments.

"Tonight is the chance," Dean decided to himself. He was going to ask Alexa Bliss on a proper date. Little did he know, at that time, was the immense amount of strife that such a request would bring into his life, and how much his resolve for the tiny cheerleader in his sights would be tested.

…

The fire was much bigger than Alexa was comfortable with. That was the first thought she'd remembered. When Dean had used the word "bonfire" to describe what was happening next, she'd pictured something to roast marshmallows over. Maybe big enough to warm up the cool September evening. What she'd gotten was a blaze large enough that she was sure they were visible to some of those military grade satellites she'd read about the year before. Brock had tossed an entire bottle of lighter fluid into an already healthy fire, and the result was an inferno like she'd never expected at a gathering of high schoolers.

Dean, his agenda clearly at the front of his mind, just played it cool. He'd pulled his beloved Martin acoustic from its worn case, smiling as several other students, either members of his band or simply fellow students who'd taken up an instrument, were casually strumming melodically, their hands deftly maneuvering over strings they'd long since memorized. Roman Reigns wielded an acoustic bass guitar. The cedar Tacoma instrument had been a birthday gift the year before, when the stout Samoan had made his first "A" in his music class. Bayley picked at her well-worn mid-level Alvarez acoustic guitar, grinning widely as she shared a large blanket with Dana Brooke, who occupied the seat next to her on the long planks of timber that made up the benches around the blazing fire. Her stepfather, Dean's dad, constantly offered her an upgrade, but Bayley loved the old guitar.

Zack played his trusty accordion. The unique keyboarded apparatus had served him well, allowing him to play from table to table at his parents restaurant. Seth produced a fiddle from somewhere. The symphony violin had been his first musical instrument, long before he'd taken up the drums, and he often wished he'd never wrapped his fingers around the drumsticks that now served as extensions of his hands. In situations like this, however, he was as dependable as a morning erection. His fingers deftly caressed the strings, producing a tone that was almost regal in its sophisticated manor.

Alexa sat next to Dean, her fingers yearning for either the acoustic guitar she stored under her bed or her trusty mandolin. She'd taken up the latter instrument after a school field trip to see RICKY SKAGGS AND KENTUCKY THUNDER play just over the Ohio/Kentucky border in the sixth grade. Her F-style Hatbox Mandolin was one of her few personal items to make the trip from her family home, and if Alexa had known she'd have the opportunity to impress her new friends with her proficiency, she'd have tied the tiny case to her backpack. But she hadn't, and so all she could do was sing with whoever was leading the current ditty.

Right now it was Dean's turn. He'd started chording out the haunting 6/8 melody of "Champagne High" by SISTER HAZEL, and began warbling the lyrics as soon as Bayley and Seth had fully caught on to where he was going. It really was one of the saddest songs Alexa had ever heard. In particular, the tortured delivery Dean employed when singing the lyric "toast to the future, but that'd be a lie" spoke to the blonde pixie's heart.

After a few more songs, mostly sang by either Dean or Bayley, the inner circle of remaining party guests dispersed into small groups, talking, laughing, and drinking with close friends. Inhaling deeply, glancing over at the little blonde heartbreaker perched next to him, sipping beer from a red solo cup, Dean decided now was the time to take his best shot.

"So, Alexa," he began, "you really sounded fantastic tonight."

The tiny bombshell grinned. "Thanks. I had a lot of fun."

"So, here in about three weeks the town is gonna have something called 'the Blue River Harvest Fair.' It's cheesy as hell, but they have, like, food and rides and carnival stuff. Everyone talks about how much they hate it and then spend every night there for the month it's open. I was hoping maybe we could go together on the first night."

Alexa's heart skipped several beats as she exhaled deeply. On the one hand, this was the moment she was certain her fateful first week of school was leading up to. On the other, Alexa wasn't sure she could accept Dean's very sweet invitation without filling him in on what he'd be taking on.

Trying not to alarm him, she slid a tiny hand up his arm, resting it on his shoulder. "Dean, that's very sweet, and I'd like to go with you, but there's some things you need to know about me first. Things that no one here knows about me, and why I'm here living with my aunt Mickie instead of in Ohio with my family. Is there somewhere we can go and talk?"

Dean nodded, his brow furrowed. Part of his anxiety was over whether or not Alexa was as into him as he clearly was into her, but there was another side of him that felt genuine concern for his new love interest and whatever situation had brought her to Georgia. The young man looked around, gauging his options, before remembering how expansive the Lesnar farm truly was.

"Yeah, actually. Brock's dad does hayrides in October and November. The path is lit on its own circuit out here. The switch is right on that power pole. I'll go deal with it and then we can go, yeah?"

Alexa nodded, watching Dean traipse quickly over to the large utility pole some twenty feet from the barn. Her aunt was right, she realized. These boys here were different. One, in particular, was captivating her imagination.

….….:...::..::...:...

Dean Ambrose had never been more enraptured with a story than he was with Alexa's. At the moment, she was regaling him with how she'd met her beloved boyfriend Buddy. Even though the diminutive sweetheart was technically telling him about the boy she'd once loved with all her heart, Ambrose felt nothing in his soul but empathy for the blonde sprite strolling next to him, her long warm up pants swishing softly with every stride as she regaled Dean with her heartwarming account.

"...So, I met Buddy at church when I got into the youth program. I was in seventh grade and he was in eighth. We went on a whitewater rafting trip and by the time we got back he was pretty much attached at the hip. My brother HATED it."

Dean snickered knowingly, having three stepsisters and a half-sister of his own. "I bet."

Alexa continued, acknowledging Dean's assertion with a smile. "I knew he liked me, but he kept telling me that if he asked me out before I got to high school his friends would give him a hard time." Alexa's gaze grew wistful as she recalled the events in question. "He even used to make sure my friends from church were coming to visit me when I had my eating disorder in eighth grade and had to live at the hospital for a while." She smiled as she recalled so many of the kind things Buddy had done for her. "Then on my first day of high school he waited for me at the front door and took my hand and showed me where all my classes were and made sure everyone knew not to mess with me."

"I bet your brother hated that, too," Dean observed, trying to remain as involved in the conversation as possible.

"Eh," Alexa fired back, with a small shrug. "Allen was just trying to make his girlfriend happy. She was hard on him. Anyway," she refocused her narrative, "I was pretty much Buddy's girlfriend two weeks into the semester. He was so good to me. He was my first kiss, he took me to Homecoming… we were gonna go to prom. We were even starting to talk about our future, and colleges..."

Dean's brow furrowed. "And then what happened?"

Alexa took maybe the deepest breath that she'd ever inhaled. This question, the one that would require the first out-loud explanation of the events of that fateful day in December since the occurrence itself.

"I was on my way home. I was late. My mom had called me earlier in the day and reminded me to get ice cream. We were celebrating Allen's birthday. I had to pick up Macy from the vet, too. She threw up on the rug a bunch of times and dad was afraid she was really sick. She wasn't, but dad was super protective of my dog. I ended up being over an hour late getting home."

Alexa's voice began to crack. "By the time I got there, the house was fully on fire. I could see the flames from the end of our driveway, which was a full quarter mile from the house itself. There were fire trucks already there. An ambulance. Three police cars." She hid her eyes from Dean temporarily, regaining her composure. "By the time I got up to where everyone was parked, there were two sheriff's deputies waiting to give me the bad news."

"What bad news?" Dean inquired softly, already suspecting what Alexa was going to reveal.

"My mom, dad, brother, boyfriend, and my brother's girlfriend were all... dead. The deputies said it was a 'random home invasion.'" She shook her head wistfully, as though she were still in disbelief. "They found the bodies of two men they said were there to rob my parents."

"But why were they still in the house when the fire got bad?"

Alexa paused to wipe a small tear from the corner of her eye, before taking a drink from her plastic cup. "The police said as best they could figure, the men came in while my mom had popcorn on the stove. She loved popcorn and they found...evidence... I guess, of there having been one of those stove-top 'Jiffy Pop' things on the stove. They think that during the struggle, the kitchen fire got out of control and there was no time for anyone to get out."

Her breath came more quickly as she fought to keep control of her emotions. Dean, sensing she needed to move on with the conversation, kept Alexa talking.

"I am so, so sorry, Alexa. Truly."

The waifish cheerleader sniffled twice, wiping a tear from her eye. She had clearly been practicing telling the story of the unimaginable trauma that had irreparably changed the course of her life.

"Thank you for saying that. For real.. I've never told anyone here this, so thank you for being a good listener, too."

Dean nodded. "What happened after? What did you do?"

Alexa scoffed, though there was no malice in the gesture. "I completely shut down. They sent me to a 'psychiatric care center.'" She noted the confused look on Dean's face. "That's what they call mental institutions now." Alexa watched him in mild amusement as the look on his face transformed into one of comprehension. "I was there from right after Christmas until the end of the school year this past spring. Then Aunt Mickie and Uncle John picked me up and brought me here."

"Wow." Dean added thoughtfully, being very careful not to portray any emotion but the one he was showing his new friend outwardly. Exhaling deeply, the young man began to speak again.

"I am...floored, Alexa. Holy shit. The fact that you're here amongst people and not talking nonsense to yourself in some padded room somewhere is pretty badass, honestly."

Alexa shrugged, an air of stoicism on her face. "It wouldn't do anyone any good for me to be somewhere crying. Losing almost everyone I loved was devastating. Horrifying, even. But I can't change it and I can't stay locked away forever, no matter how bad I want to." She sighed, giving their conversation an air of finality. "I just thought you should know this about me before you tried dating me or anything."

Dean grinned, that shit-eating smirk that so many of the girls in his class swooned over. "Well, I'm glad you told me. Although, given my recent 'track record' with the ladies, if you WERE crazy, that wouldn't necessarily deter me from trying to hook it up."

Alexa giggled and rolled her eyes, but she did lightly feather her hand up and down Dean's arm. There was one more notion she needed to share with her potential paramour, however. "So, we can start like, hanging out, and of course I'll go to the fair with you, but I can't go too far too fast. A LOT of messed up shit happened to me this year, and emotionally I am not ready for anything serious. Can you handle that?"

Dean considered this, his brow raised in deep thought at what she'd just told him. "Yeah… Yeah, I can handle that. Just… if you're gonna start being seen with me, and if everyone at school is gonna think we're 'together,' even if we aren't, please don't be seen flirting with a bunch of other dudes. I'm sure Bayley told you what happened-"

Alexa cut him off with a small, sweet smile and a calming hand to the middle of his chest, before raising up on her tiptoes and ever-so slightly brushing her pink lips against his cheek. "She told me. And trust me, you have nothing to worry about. You've been very sweet to me, and I've never been the type to crave attention for attention's sake. Let's try to look at this as what my therapist would call 'testing the waters.' I think you're cute, and I want to get to know you better. I will assume you think the same thing about me?"

"'Cute' isn't the word I'd use, necessarily, but basically."

The tiny blonde rolled her eyes again. "Whatever." She checked her watch. Seeing that it was well after their 1 AM curfew, she swore under her breath and tensed her body.

"I didn't realize it was so late. I need to get home. I have to watch Brynlee and the twins in the morning and then Uncle John is taking me car shopping."

Dean nodded his head in approval. "Nice! You thinking Camaro or Mustang or what?"

Alexa laughed louder than she had at any point that evening. It wasn't lost on her that Dean Ambrose made her laugh more frequently and with less effort than anyone she'd encountered since the tragic loss of her family. "Probably more like a Civic. Gotta get good gas mileage and I don't have a job right now, so…"

Ambrose snickered. "I get it. Dad makes me work part-time during the summer, but he says during the school year it's my job to get good grades and do well in my extracurriculars so I can get scholarships." He glanced down, making eye contact with Alexa. "I seriously despise having to please that guy to get what I want. But I'll tell you about that some other time."

Alexa nodded and bit her lip softly. "I'd like that. Maybe coffee or dinner Sunday?"

Dean's face morphed into a totem of overdramatic shock. "Are you asking me out now? After we just talked about not moving too fast?"

Now, the tiny girl shook her head and clicked her tongue. "I am already regretting this…"

Dean stopped laughing long enough to raise his arms to stop Alexa from getting irritated. "I'm just kidding. I would love to eat or have coffee Sunday." With that, he motioned for ALexa to walk back up the dimly lit path they'd taken out into the dense forest behind the Lesnar farm. Dean smiled to himself as he felt Alexa hook her hand lightly into his forearm, but did nothing to call attention to the mild show of affection.

The pair walked quietly, occasionally glancing into the other's eyes, until a sharp SNAP in the woods some thirty feet away brought both youth to a standstill.

"You hear that?" Dean asked in a sharp whisper.

Instead of audibly answering, Alexa just nodded urgently, and Dean could feel a slight tremble radiate through the young woman's petite form at the notion that she might not be completely safe here in the deciduous mass behind the giant metal storage barn.

"We should go. Now." Dean continued in the same tone, taking Alexa by the hand and stepping briskly in the direction they came.

….

"That was fucking weird," Dean allowed, though his eyes never left the two lane road he was navigating.

"You're telling me," Alexa retorted. She was ready to be home, where her loyal dog would protect her to the death and where she felt as comfortable as anywhere she'd been in the last twelve months. "And can I ask you something?" She continued, nonplussed by her relative newness to her social situation. "Why wasn't anyone talking about where Mike and Maryse were today?"

Dean snickered knowingly. "Mike has done this a few times. Just taken off without anyone knowing. I'm sure he'll be back at school Monday with a hangover and a couple of really good stories of what he and Maryse did to each other all weekend, either at his parents' lake house or his grandparent's beachfront condo or some such shit." Alexa giggled at hearing Dean's vulgarities while describing such seemingly mundane acts.

"Still though," Alexa countered, not entirely convinced of Dean's theory. "It just seems weird."

Dean grinned and nodded. "Yeah. It does. But again, Mike's fine. I mean, he has some deep rooted issues relating to his absentee parents, but he lives in the nicest house in town, so I'm sure he's not losing any sleep over it."

That answer should've satisfied Alexa. But given what she'd been through, she automatically assumed there was some sort of sinister machination taking a foothold in her new life.

"I hope you're right. It's just...odd. I mean, isn't it? Or do high school kids frequently go on multi-day benders in this part of Georgia?"

Dean scoffed, not sure how serious Alexa's inquiry actually was. Glancing over at his passenger, the young man could see that Bliss had at least a semi-inquisitive expression on her face. "No, no they don't," he offered cautiously. "But Blue River is a weird fuc-". He stopped himself from cursing, causing a titter of laughter from Alexa. "It's a weird place," he continued. "I'll fill you in on Sunday. It's nothing that huge, or super-insane, but the tragic history of this town is worth knowing if you're gonna live here."

"Looking forward to it," Alexa lilted, before sliding her hand over Dean's, which was resting on the center console. The two of them enjoyed a quiet ride to Alexa's, with each Junior's mind flush with endless scenarios and possibilities for their budding relationship.

….

Alexa Bliss couldn't get her heart to stop racing. She'd allowed the scruffy linebacker/lead singer to walk her to her front door, then again lightly brushed her lips against Dean's flushed cheek. She'd promised to call him the next afternoon to firm up their plans for Sunday afternoon, then bid him a sweet goodnight.

The very next item on her agenda was an incredibly overdue walk for her patient canine companion. The incredibly compliant dog hadn't even lifted its head when she came barging into her basement bedroom, having successfully avoided waking her Uncle John or the three kids living in the house.

"C'mon, Mace," she gently urged the puppy, letting her scamper through the basement door that Alexa rarely used except for this very function. Having waited several hours to take care of her necessities, the cinnamon colored dog assumed the familiar squat that still made Alexa chuckle as though she were a child.

It didn't get cold in Georgia nearly as early as it did in Ohio. Alexa knew that, having visited her mom's favorite sister on several occasions as a small child. But, out of habit, the paper-thin girl still threw on a hooded sweatshirt the moment she strode through her bedroom entry. The well-worn charcoal grey garment provided her some emotional security, having been her favorite article of clothing to wrap up in before her life had been turned upside down. She stared off into the woods, not completely aware of what was happening around her, until she was shocked back into her current reality by a low, persistent growl.

"Macy, stop!" Alexa whispered, though it was loudly enough to be heard from the house. She was milliseconds away from repeating her urgent command, before her auditory senses were invaded by a similar sound to the one that had cut her walk with Dean short. A loud SNAP of a twig breaking, presumably under someone's boot, echoed throughout the James-Cena backyard. Alexa sprinted the ten yards between her and her canine companion, grabbing the erstwhile pooch firmly by the collar and forcing her back into the home she shared with her Aunt and Uncle.

Alexa's pulse wouldn't deaden at all. Her worst nightmare was playing out before her very eyes. The feeling that someone was watching her was one she'd often had in Ohio, and she'd hoped against hope that she'd left that notion in the Buckeye state. But now the prospect of sleeping in the basement, all alone on that floor of the house, was unworkable to her. So, recalling a conversation she'd had before with Mickie, Alexa tiptoed up the stairs, Macy closely in tow, until she came to a stop outside Brynlee's bedroom door.

Her little cousin often had the same nightmare issue Alexa herself experienced. Mickie had divulged that tidbit during one of Alexa's own episodes, and so every once in a while Alexa got so unsettled by a dream she'd had that she'd crawled into bed with her grade-school aged housemate.

Alexa cracked the door to Brynlee's bedroom, noting with some mild amusement that the fourth grader had fallen asleep with her reading lamp on and a book resting face down, wide open , strewn next to her. Alexa laid down, sighing softly, then finally felt her panic start to subside as Macy turned a circle at Alexa's feet and settled in.

There was supposed to be a murder this chapter, but I didn't like the way it felt. There will be two next chapter. Thanks for reading. Do you think we've met the killer already? If so, who do you think it is? Answer in the comments.


	3. Chapter Three: Drive-In's and the Risks of Parking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the weekend comes and goes, will another Blue River student meet a tragic end?

Blood River Chapter 3.

  
  


The only thing on Alexa’s mind at this particular moment was whether or not the butterflies in her stomach were actually visible from the outside. She sat, legs folded under her, on an overstuffed couch in the “reading corner” of the local coffee house. She’d ordered for herself already, not wanting to give Dean the opportunity to spend money on her before Alexa was sold on him as a potential boyfriend. She wanted to be, but her past trauma still wasn’t allowing her to clear her mind. 

The barista, who Lexi didn’t know but recognized from school, brought her coffee in an off-white ceramic mug. She exchanged a pleasant smile with the girl, making a mental note to try to introduce herself before leaving. She would’ve right then, but the young woman working at Hennig’s Perfect Pour seemed almost overwhelmed that Sunday night. 

Coffee was one of Alexa’s most treasured indulgences. She had hours of fond memories stored away in the far recesses of her brain of time she’d spent in the early mornings with her father, drinking coffee and talking. She’d began routinely consuming the beverage at the tender age of thirteen, and despite the jokes about how it stunted her growth, it’d become as much a part of her daily preparations as anything else. She lifted the ceramic apparatus to her face, taking a deep inhale of the steaming liquid. 

She smiled to herself. The brew was strong, but not burnt. The “house blend” could be an adventure at some places, but whoever this Hennig guy was, Alexa decided then and there that he knew his shit. She added some sweetener, just a dash of skim milk, and took her first sip. 

“Amazing,” she intimated to herself. She’d given up coffee for a long time after the incident, as some sort of self-flagellation for surviving the house fire that had taken her entire family. A second sip followed, with a soft moan of complete satisfaction gracing the tiny blonde’s lips with abject contentment at the mild jolt she felt coursing through her veins. For the first time in weeks, Alexa Bliss was in absolute heaven. 

Her good mood was lifted even further as she watched Dean Ambrose saunter through the glass door of the establishment. He greeted the barista with a grin before grabbing a green glass bottle of Coke from a cooler in front of the register. He slid a ten dollar bill across the counter, waving dismissively for the haggard employee to keep the seven dollars and change he was entitled to from what was left over after his purchase. 

“Hi Alexa,” Dean began, trying not to convey his level of joy at finally getting to see his crush again. He’d meant to go by her house the night before, and even texted Alexa, informing her of his intent to do just that, but an issue with his best friend had postponed his intention.

“Good to see you, Dean. And here I was afraid you were gonna stand me up again. Like last night.”

As the miniscule beauty’s face lit up with humor, Dean shook his head from side to side and rolled his eyes.

“First of all, we didn’t ‘officially’ make plans. You gotta get me early.” He winked at Alexa. “I’m popular. Secondly, Roman Reigns is one of the toughest guys at our school, but he was blubbering like a middle school girl at a Backstreet Boys concert yesterday.”

Alexa couldn’t suppress a giggle. “What happened?”

Dean snickered. “Guy woke up yesterday morning with a voicemail notice on his phone. His girlfriend Nattie called him at six AM yesterday to break up with him. Apparently her old boyfriend, Tyson, graduated basic training last weekend. He’s back in town and she couldn’t be bothered to call Roman before jumping back into Tyson’s back seat. Roman was crying like a bitch when we showed up for medical treatment yesterday morning.”

Alexa grimaced. “That bad, huh? You needed medical attention after the game?”

Dean shook his head, more vociferously this time. “I didn’t. Roman did. I go to get my knee looked at after every game. I hurt it playing baseball in the eighth grade and it’s just smart to not let up. But Roman was staring at his phone like he watched it kill his cat and trying not to let anyone else see tears in his eyes.”

“Awww,” Alexa muttered, her sympathy for Roman welling up within her. Throughout her high school career in Ohio, Alexa had always been known as a fount of compassion for anyone who needed it. 

Dean chortled again. “Yeah. That’s about right. Don’t feel too bad for him, though. We all tried to warn him.”

Alexa tried to suppress a smile. Deep down, it was somewhat gratifying to hear from someone else what she’d suspected about Natalya since the day the two blondes crossed paths for the first time. 

“Yeah. I didn’t get the best of vibes from her at Brock’s the other night.”

Dean grinned his head mischievously. “That’s because she’s threatened by you.”

“What?” Alexa asked, unaware of any run-in she’d had with Natalya that would’ve made the Senior uneasy. “What did I do?”

Dean shook his head again. “Nothing. She’s just one of those girls who automatically hates anyone she sees as prettier than her.”

Alexa fought the grin forming at the edges of her lips, but ended up having to lift her coffee mug, taking a sip to hide her satisfaction at Dean telling her she was pretty. Seh decided in that instant that she could get used to that. 

“That’s…” She paused, reforming her thoughts. “I knew a lot of girls like that back home. They were the worst kind of horrible. One even sent me a card when I was in the hospital that said she hoped I died so she could be Sophomore class Princess at Homecoming.”

Ambrose’s eyes grew wide. “Holy shit. Really?”

Alexa chuckled, recalling the incident with the sort of grim fondness she wasn’t sure how to define yet.

“Yeah. Her name was Britt Baker. She hated me because she wanted the lead role in a musical we did in middle school. No one had the heart to tell her she sounded like a sick walrus when she sings. So when I got the part, it put me in her crosshairs.”

“Girls can be assholes,” Dean muttered in response. 

“Yep,” Alexa returned, a tight lipped smile adorning her face. “I got a dozen roses from her, with a card in a pink envelope. She had the most perfect cursive handwriting I’d ever seen. She wrote ‘maybe it would be best if you just passed on so the rest of us could dare to dream of achieving.’ Like it was my fault she sucked.”

Dean laughed. “Ha! Well, I’m sorry that happened to you. I wish I could tell you we didn’t have girls like that here. I do think it’s probably less than most places. Really only Natalya and Sasha. And sometimes Charlotte, but I can’t figure out her criteria for who she likes and doesn’t.”

Alexa waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I already met Charlotte. We actually IM’ed a good bit yesterday. We’re in the same history class and we’re gonna study together this semester. She’s a sweetheart.”

“Well then, sounds like you’re all set.” One more thought occured to Dean. “The girls that Sasha hangs out with are actually pretty okay. Liv and Mandy. They knew Sasha back before she sold her soul to be ‘the boss.’”

  
  


“The Boss?” Alexa asked, puzzled. 

“Yeah. Some shit she wanted us to call her in eighth grade after she got named cheer captain. None of us did, but she called herself that, so it kinda just became something we got used to. Doesn’t make it not stupid, but we got used to it.”

Alexa laughed louder now, before taking a second giant swig of her coffee. “I understand.” She reset, hoping to ask Dean about something he said two nights previous. “So, the other night you mentioned the ‘tragic history of this town.’ Do tell.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s not as interesting as you think. Honestly.”

Alexa grinned brightly. “Try me.”

“Ok,” Dean returned, taking a long swing of his Coca Cola before beginning his tale. “So, you know how this town is called ‘Blue River,’ even though there’s a big-ass lake like a mile from here?”

Alexa giggled. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Dean continued, “Georgia isn’t a lake state. We actually have zero naturally occurring lakes here. We’re a river state. Lake Lanier is man-made.”

“That’s...interesting, I guess,” Alexa returned cautiously. 

“That’s not the interesting part,” Dean asserted. “So, I guess in the twenties, when they were doing all that ‘New Deal’ shit to get people back to work, they built a big hydroelectric dam up near the north end of the county.”

“I think we’ve driven over it before,” Alexa countered. 

“I’m sure you have,” Dean volleyed in return. “Anyway, the story goes that right before the lake was dammed up, the folks that lived in the town of Rocky Creek were told they had a week to pack their belongings and find somewhere to live.”

“That doesn’t seem fair at all!” Alexa exclaimed, a bit more loudly than she’d meant to.

“Oh, it wasn’t,” Dean agreed. “But I guess that’s how things were back then. Anyway, there was a small but vocal faction of townsfolk that refused to leave. Said they had nowhere to go. My grandpa told me when I was a kid that he knew some of the families, and that they all thought the state wouldn’t authorize the lake filling if people were still in town.”

“I’m guessing they thought wrong,” Alexa mused sadly.

Dean nodded grimly. “Yep. Almost exactly a hundred and sixty eight hours after they were given their final warning, the army corps of engineers allowed the dam to finish plugging and the reservoir to be filled. When the lake filled up, there were twenty three people who’d drowned. They’d refused to be moved and they paid the price for it.”

“Oh my God,” Alexa managed to push out. “Did their families sue?”

Dean shook his head in the negative, more emphatically this time. “For what? They were told. It’s messed up that they died, but the state warned them. All the lawyers saw were a bunch of people who’d put themselves in harms way by choice. The families didn’t get a penny.” Dean continued his tale, a far-off look in his eye as he remembered the accounting his grandfather had given him. “From then on, it was like the town was divided. The relatives of those people that drowned always seemed to resent the ones that didn’t lose anything. And they HATED my great-uncle.”

“Why?” Alexa inquired, puzzled. 

“He was the Mayor when all this went down. A lot of the wronged families thought he could’ve done something to prevent all that death. He couldn’t, but they always blamed him.”

Alexa nodded, contemplating what she’d been told. “And what does that have to do with the town today?”

Dean snickered. “Well, this is the South. Small town drama tends to have a way of lingering on, even a hundred or so years past its expiration date. There are still folks here who resent my family for the small role they played. And then there’s the ‘lake deaths.’”

“Lake deaths?” Alexa repeated, clearly intrigued.

“Yeah.” Dean shook his head at the recollection. “It seems like every year a handful of people go out on Lake Lanier and die mysteriously. The lake police will go out and find boats capsized in calm water, or bodies that look like they were swimming for shore when there was no reason to. Some of them get chalked up to ‘BWI’s, but some never get solved.”

“You think the lake is haunted?”

“I don’t,” Dean answered. “But a lot of people here do. And even if the lake itself isn’t haunted, the deaths serve as a regular reminder of how much this town lost on that day. And I think it keeps those old wounds from ever completely healing.”

As he finished speaking, Alexa became conscious of a large figure over her left shoulder, rapidly approaching Dean.

“Dean! What’s up, baby?”

Dean chuckled and stood to his feet, before exchanging a short but multi-step handshake with the young man. “Have you met Alexa?”

The massive boy shook his head. “I think I would remember meeting a woman this beautiful.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Save it, Keith.” He turned his gaze to Alexa. “Lex, this is Keith Lee. You might recognize him from chorus, but he’s also a monster on our defensive line. You probably heard his name a lot Friday. How many tackles you have, Keith? Eleven?”

Lee snickered. “Thirteen solo. Two for a loss. Two sacks. Brock got all the attention, but I get results, motherfucker.”

Everyone involved in the conversation allowed at least a giggle. Keith had played a whale of a game the previous Friday. He’d been a late addition the season before, with his dad moving him into Blue River’s district just before the first game of the year. Fast forward one season, and now Roman, Brock, Keith, and Titus O’Neil formed maybe the most formidable defensive line in the state of Georgia. They were definitely the biggest, fastest, and angriest. 

“That you do,” Dean agreed. Even Alexa let a bright grin cross her face.

“I probably heard your name twenty times over the speakers, Keith,” she intimated, letting her bright smile do the talking. In her mind, she was currently “Dean or nothing” as far as romantic excursions were confirmed, but there was no reason not to be nice to this new acquaintance. 

“You damn right, babygirl,” Keith returned. He turned back to his teammate. “Yo man, a bunch of us are going up to the drive-in movie tonight. They’re playing  _ Casablanca.  _ I know you love that classic shit…”

Dean snickered as Keith trailed off. “I do,” Ambrose fired back. “I do love that classic shit.” Keith laughed loudly, which made Alexa smile, and the big man continued.

“Everyone’s coming, bro. Roman, Seth, Zack, Brock, Christian, Big T, Big E, Woods, Kofi, D-Bry, everyone. I know Ro tried to call you.”

Dean nodded resolutely as he glanced at his phone. “I was gonna call him back as soon as I was done with this lovely young lady here.”

Alexa fought with everything in her not to blush as she took in Dean’s kind words. “Well,” she lilted, “a drive-in movie sounds fun. I’ve never been.”

Keith nodded forcefully. “Oh, it’s dope. We order pizza. Brock or Big E sneak in beer. It’s cheap as hell.”

Dean signalled his agreement. “It’s true. I had no idea Gerry was playing the hits tonight.” By “Gerry,” Dean was referring to Gerald Brisco, owner and chief proprietor of Brisco & Patterson’s Starlight Drive-In. Located in a prime spot overlooking the most picturesque location on Lake Lanier, the long-enduring business had become a beloved landmark amongst the conservative town’s young people. 

“I’ve never actually seen  _ Casablanca, _ ” Alexa confessed.

The look of mock indignation on Dean’s face was unmistakable. “What? Well, we just cannot have that,” Ambrose asserted. “I insist you accompany me tonight.” 

Alexa rolled her eyes, though she wasn’t at all disappointed with this turn of events. “Only because you insist, and because I don’t want to turn you down in front of your friend.”

Alexa regretted the joke as soon as she made it, but her mind was put at ease by Dean’s big, friendly laugh. “I guess I’m lucky he’s here then. What time is the movie playing, Keith?”

The giant’s smile grew wide again. “Seven thirty. I’m ordering takeout from Ryder’s, but the concession stand will be open, so it’s up to you I guess.”

Dean smiled and nodded in the affirmative. “See you tonight, man. Save me a parking spot.”

Keith offered his fist for bumping. Dean accepted gladly, then the two young men exchanged a “bro hug,” consisting of the pair beating the hell out of each other under the guise of playful affection.

“I think you might be a bad influence,” Alexa offered as Keith walked away.

“Probably,” Dean agreed, nodding slowly. “I’ve heard that before.” He managed to twist his face into a serious expression, though he didn’t at all mean to be serious. “So,” he continued, forcing the current issue; “you wanna go to the drive-in movie?”

Alexa tried not to smile. “Only if you promise to be a gentleman and keep your hands to yourself, sir.” The tiny blonde emphasized the word “sir” as though it were the most important statement she’d ever uttered. 

“Alexa, I wish I could promise that, but I make no guarantees,” Dean returned quickly. The two continued to discuss their second date, which might’ve actually been their first date, depending on who you asked. What the pair of young folks WERE sure of, however, was that they were intrigued by the possibilities the future held, and that they had no idea of the events that would unfold that very evening…

…………………………………………

Alexa was REALLY glad Bayley and Dana had come. That was her very first thought. Not only did the petite cheerleader enjoy the company of the pair of girls, but as much as she was enjoying spending time with Dean, having some females she was on friendly terms with to talk to put her at ease. 

With every second that passed, however, Alexa grew more impressed with the unkempt Junior she’d fallen in with. He was currently sitting in a camping chair, next to her, in a large semi-circle of students. What made him even more attractive than usual in Alexa’s eyes, however, was that he was holding the leash of her faithful companion Macy. She’d felt bad for her poor pooch, who’d been longing to spend the evening with her owner, and so Dean graciously agreed to allow the dog on their excursion. Truth be told, Dean adored four legged animals of all varieties, and Alexa had been a good sport, taking Macy for a somewhat lengthy walk to stretch her legs upon their arrival. But Macy needed tons of attention, and Alexa wanted to talk to her new friends, and so Dean offered to keep the dog with him for a while. 

As the evening progressed, and the sun sank low over the crystal blue water of Lake Lanier, the large reservoir that Blue River fed, Alexa found herself instinctively moving closer to Dean Ambrose. Not that he was all she paid attention to; she’d had a very fun conversation with Keith Lee, who paused between bites from the massive pizza box he had spread over his lap. He’d gamely offered his new friend a slice, but Alexa had packed some peanut butter and honey sandwiches while picking up Macy at her house. Her stomach was unsettled over the sudden changes in her diet brought on by being around people her age again, and she wanted to take it easy tonight. At least, until Ettore Langston, known to his friends as “Big E,” showed up with his two best friends and a pony keg of some skunky light beer hidden in a Gatorade cooler. He’d backed his Ford Expedition alongside Dean’s SUV, and kept his libations carefully concealed from any authority figures. 

Alexa, Bayley, and Dana conversed, trying their best to keep away from the flood of testosterone. As it often happened, however, the flood of testosterone made itself known. Just before the heavy evening sun finished it’s descent over the horizon, Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns made their way from Seth’s car into the semi-circle of young people. Seth was as cordial as Alexa had seen him, during their brief acquaintance, but Roman simply grunted a crude greeting, while grumbling a phrase that sounded alarmingly to Alexa like “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill them…”

After a moment, once the big Samoan was well out of earshot, Alexa turned to Seth, who’d unfolded his camping chair between Bayley and Dana, and listened as her cheerful latina friend launched into a casual inquiry.

“What’s wrong with him?” The hugging guitarist asked her drummer.

Seth shook his head, before snickering. It wasn’t a humorous sort of laugh in the least.

“Oh, we saw Tyson’s Mustang when we were pulling in here. He and Nattie were making out in the front seat. It was pretty clear that she wanted everyone to see her with her ‘true love,’ back from basic training.” Seth laughed again, a bit more demonstratively this time.

“It would not shock me even a little bit if she were pregnant by Christmas. They are really getting after it over there.”

Alexa tried to hide a giggle as Bayley and Dana did their best not to look over their shoulders at the navy sports car parked behind them. The sky above the small group of students got darker and darker as the hour grew later, and even more youths joined their gathering. Alexa was especially surprised by a vaguely Asian looking young woman with blue tips setting off her jet black hair. The girl had walked straight through their cluster and taken a perch on the knee of Keith Lee.

“That’s Mia Yim,” Bayley informed Alexa. “She’s on the softball team, the basketball team AND the track team. She’s awesome.”

Alexa nodded, impressed with the mocha-colored girl’s impromptu resume. “And I assume she’s dating Keith?” The blonde fired back.

Dana nodded. “Yep. They’ve been together since January. They were Prom Prince and Princess for our class, actually. It was really cute.”

Alexa took this information in, before succumbing to the constant distraction of stragglers joining their party at the last few moments before the picture started.

There was Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan, who Alexa already knew from cheerleading. There was Zack Ryder, who showed up with most of a full pan of lasagna from his parents’ restaurant, and who’d set up his own outdoor chair as close to Dana as he could stand. Brock Lesnar showed up with Charlotte Flair, who seemed very content to make small talk with the ferocious boy she’d met the previous Friday. Big E’s friends, Kofi Kingston and Xavier Woods, greeted a fresh female set of arrivals to their shindig. From what Alexa could tell, their names were Ember Moon, Alicia Fox, and Big E’s date, Nia Jax. Alexa did see some humor in the apparent revelation that Nia was at least a full inch taller than her suitor, but again the zaftig Samoan girl wowed Alexa with her humor and charm. 

Kacy Catanzaro and Trevor Mann were there. Alexa had gotten to know Kacy almost entirely by Kacy being the only girl smaller than her on the cheer squad. Kacy could do things athletically that no one else could do. Not on their team, not at their school, not anywhere. But Kacy was also a sweetheart, and shared the giant bag of Doritos she’d procured with everyone interested.

Conspicuous by his absence, however, was Roman Reigns. Alexa had seen him earlier, with Seth, but now it seemed there was just no locating Reigns. As the sky darkened and the screen began flickering, a small cheer rose from the group containing Alexa, as well as the other gatherings across the clearing. There was a substantial shift in seating situations all around Alexa, and she chuckled to herself once again as Dean ended up next to her. 

“Hey hey,” he greeted her in his raspy baritone.

“Hi,” Alexa returned. “I’m excited to see this.”

“Me too,” Dean said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen this whole thing. But it’s a classic, so we ought to do pretty well.” He glanced all around his brand new love interest. “You want anything? Popcorn? Soda? An excuse to leave?”

Alexa laughed loudly, even as the sound from the theatre began to emanate from the car stereos all around the small watching party. 

“I’m good, Dean. I have a half a beer from Big E and a candy bar. Now all I need is a cute boy to sit with.”

Dean grinned. “Well, as soon as one gets here, I will send him straight to you.”

Alexa narrowed her eyes as she shook her head flirtatiously. “Hah hah, Ambrose, now will you scooch a little closer to me? It’s cooling off out here.”

Smiling, Dean did as he was told. He lifted his camping chair and slid as close as he could to the miniscule beauty without drawing attention. He did lean forward long enough to catch Dana’s gaze, winking at her as she did her best to engage Zack in conversation. Finally, the feature film flickered to life, its stark image piercing the night air. As the opening credits rolled, Alexa smiled up at her date, before sliding her hand inside his arm and resting her head on his shoulder….

  
  


…………………………………………………………..

Natalya Neidhart was in a state of euphoria. Not only was her dream man back from basic training to claim her, but he was currently lightly running his hands over every inch of her youthful, yet supple body. His open hands quickly found their home under her blouse, gathering palm-sized grasps of her still-covered breasts, and her lips were locked onto his, their tongues dancing intensely as the soundtrack of the film they really weren’t watching pumped through the state of the art speakers in Tyson Kidd’s new Ford Mustang. 

“Baby,” the lush blonde moaned into her boyfriend’s ear, “this is so amazing! I’m so glad you’re back!” She continued gyrating her hips as she straddled her boyfriend. “Fuck!” She exclaimed, allowing her emotions to take over for just a split second.

“It’s good to have you back, babe,” Tyson fired back, pulling his lips briefly away from his girlfriend’s. “I’m glad you dumped that zero to get with this hero.”

Natalya shook her head. “Did you just quote that fucking Vanilla Ice movie to me?”

Kidd snickered, then nodded his head arrogantly. “Yes I did.” As Nattie lifted her muscular thigh back over Tyson’s lap, indicating the concluding of their encounter, both paramours began smoothing out their clothes and generally trying to make themselves presentable.

“Sorry, baby,” Natalya blurted, though she seemed less than sincere. “It’s just super hard to keep my hands off of you. We can’t have sex here, though. Too many prying eyes around.”

Tyson nodded. “Agreed. Why don’t you go get us a couple of Cokes, some candy, whatever else you want, then we’ll finish the flick and get out of here? Go somewhere a little more private and get… re-acquainted?”

Natalya giggled, before kissing her new/old boyfriend lustily. “Absolutely, baby. Can I have money?”

Tyson snickered, but reached for his wallet and presented his preening lover with more pocket money than was necessary for his purchase. 

“I’ll take Sour Patch Kids and a large Cherry Coke,” Tyson reminded Nattie as she bounced excitedly away from his sleek wheels. Tyson watched her lush form prance away, before leaning his seat back slightly to better enjoy the movie.

…………………………..

The classic film ended far before Alexa was ready to say goodnight to her new friends. There was a sense of finality hanging in the air, along with the late summer evening humidity that all the locals seemed used to. Alexa doubted she’d ever get used to the oppressive moisture in the atmosphere and how it affected her. She tried to help Dean pack her folding chair and the small cooler she’d brought for herself and the young man, but Ambrose would hear nothing of it. So instead she made idle small talk with Bayley while Dean got their vehicle ready to go. 

“Thanks for the ride back, Dean.”

Ambrose paused from his labor to look up at his stepsister, not quite believing what he heard. “Dude, we’re going to the same house. You live one bedroom over from me. Why wouldn’t I take you home?”

Bayley shrugged and giggled at her longtime friend and family member. “I dunno. I thought maybe you’d want alone time with Alexa. I mean, you really shouldn’t be out late because we have school tomorrow but…”

Bayley giggled as she trailed off. Both Dean and Alexa looked away, hiding their reddening faces. “I’ve got to get to bed soon,” Alexa finally returned through almost clenched teeth. “And I know Dean has early workouts.”

Ambrose nodded. “I do.” He shut the back hatch of his SUV a little harder than Bayley thought was called for, as Alexa gently led Macy into the backseat. 

“You can sit up front, Lexi,” Bayley lilted playfully.

“Uh, ok. You don’t mind sitting with the dog?”

Bayley grinned. “Not a bit. I love puppies.”

And that’s how Alexa found herself in her current position; in the front seat of Dean’s Explorer, with Bayley jabbering nonsense behind her at the Golden Retriever he’s made her way from Ohio with. Dean and Lex made awkward small talk for the duration of the ride out to the James-Cena home, while Dean’s step-sister did her best not to make them feel like she was watching. She clearly was, and would even inject herself into their conversation from time to time, but she didn’t want to make her obvious desire for the two to begin a relationship quite so apparent.

Finally, Dean turned onto the street that Alexa resided on. He took a left into the desired driveway, then parked his vehicle close enough to not be a hike for Alexa while being far enough away so as to not wake up any of the home’s other occupants. 

“Thanks for the ride, Dean.” Alexa expressed, as she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“Let me help you with your stuff,” Dean returned quickly as he shot out of the driver’s seat. Bayley couldn’t hide her smile as she watched her “too cool for school” step-brother almost literally trip over himself to assist his crush. 

Alexa corralled her puppy, who was itching for a short romp in the backyard, and Dean hastily lifted the tiny blonde’s small cooler out of the back hatch and lugged it clumsily to the aging but well kept front porch.

“Just leave it out here so it can drain,” Alexa offered softly. “The ice hasn’t melted yet.”

“No problem,” Dean rasped as he set the heavy box down as quietly as physics would allow. Macy trotted gleefully into the house, heading immediately down the stairs that led to Alexa’s room. 

Alexa giggled. “She’s a good girl. She’s just tired.” 

Dean snickered. “That makes three of us.” Ambrose found himself torn. He really, really wanted to ask Alexa to spend some time with him this week, but he also knew Bayley was waiting in his Explorer. Picking up on his indecision, Alexa tried to ease the tension. She reached out and gently grabbed Dean’s hand.

“Thank you,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his.

“For what?” He replied, not entirely sure what she was talking about.

“Everything,” she sighed, releasing his hand and running hers up his sinewed arm. “For being so nice and not expecting anything in return. For helping me with Macy. For not dwelling on all the messed up shit that happened to me…”

She trailed off, fighting the familiar feel of tears.

“Why would I be a dick about any of that?” Dean asked, truly puzzled.

“I dunno,” Alexa returned, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s just… I had this whole thing played out in my head where I wasn’t gonna get too close to anyone and just keep my head down and graduate. But you, and Bayley, and Dana…” Her stream of consciousness decrescendoed again, as the wave of accumulated emotions washed over her again.

“Hey, hey,” Dean whispered, taking her free hand. “We all really like you. You don’t have to do this alone if you don’t want to.”

The suddenly exhausted girl nodded. “I know.” She gazed back up at Dean. “And I appreciate that.” Alexa turned to her left, hearing Macy scratch at the door to the backyard. 

“I need to let Macy out and get to bed. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Dean grinned and nodded, squeezing her hand a final time. “Definitely.”

Alexa bit her lip in indecision, before coming to what might’ve been a hasty act. She rose up on her tiptoes, smiling softly, and lightly pecked Dean between the corner of his mouth and his cheek. It still wasn’t much of a kiss, but it was more than Dean was expecting, and miles ahead of where Alexa thought she would be at this point in her new life. 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Before Dean could fully process what had happened, Alexa closed the door. Dean chuckled to himself as he heard the deadbolt slide into place. Glancing over at the car, he could see Bayley pantomime a cheering fan of Blue River’s football team, pumping her arms over her head. Ambrose, now fully embarrassed, gave his sibling through marriage a hasty middle finger as he walked to the vehicle. 

As he pulled the door open, Dean cut off any smart comment Bayley had to make about the situation. “Don’t say a fuckin’ word,” he muttered, trying not to make eye contact. Bayley heeded his wishes. Instead, she smiled like a goof and tried her best to stare a hole into Dean as the Explorer pulled away…

……………………

The next few minutes were a blur for the exhausted Bliss. She took her dog for a final bathroom walk, before quickly changing into her makeshift pajamas, which were actually an old cheerleading t-shirt and pair of gym shorts, before brushing her teeth and taking care of any other need. After her adrenaline settled, she was finally able to reflect upon the evening’s events. She liked Dean. She could now say that with certainty. She “liked” Dean as so much more than just one of the many friends she’d made that first week at Blue River High. She blushed as she thought of the myriad times her heart skipped a beat as he walked by, and how gentle his touch always was, even if his voice and manner were both rougher than she was used to. 

These emotions in and of themselves hadn’t upset Alexa. In fact, she’d done a good job of keeping it together that first week of her Junior year. That was until the notion that she should call her mom and tell her about the new boy in her life. 

It all came flooding back after that. The fire. The funerals. The mental health facility. The feelings of utter loneliness and despair that had filled her every day from the incident until she was allowed to leave with her loving Aunt. Before long, it was all the tiny girl could take. The sobs came from deep within her, manifesting themselves as choppy wails, not loud, but not so quiet that she couldn’t feel the footsteps of her Aunt Mickie rattle the flimsy wooden wall that separated her room from the staircase.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mickie cooed as she rushed to throw her arms around Alexa. She rocked back and forth, doing everything she could think of to comfort the distraught young woman who’d come to live with her. After ninety or so seconds of unfettered tears and body-shaking sobs, Alexa began to calm down.

“What’s wrong, Lexi?” Mickie asked, as gently as possible.

She could feel Alexa’s head swinging from side to side, signalling in the negative. “I don’t know, Aunt Mickie. It just hit me all at once that I’ll never be able to talk to my mom or dad or brother or my Buddy ever again! It’s just so hard. I miss them every day and I feel bad for being out having fun while they’re cold in the ground…”

She trailed off, her words becoming indistinguishable. Mickie “shhhh”ed her niece, gently, while rubbing her back and continuing the comforting rocking she’d begun a few minutes ago.

“I know, babe. I wish I could tell you it’s all gonna be okay. I know it’s hard. But you’re safe here and we love you and we’ll do anything for you. Won’t we, John?”

Alexa glanced to her right, where the massive frame of John Cena was leaning to one side. “We sure will, Lexi. Do you want to come sleep on the main floor? We could make up the couch or you can sleep in Bryn’s room.”

Alexa nodded. “I’ll sleep on the floor in Bryn’s room. That way I won’t wake her up.”

John nodded and gave a tight-lipped, joyless smile. He turned and began the short climb up the stairs, with Macy following close behind her. Right behind them, Mickie helped Alexa to her feet, while still keeping an arm around her, and the two followed John, with the smaller girl trying her best to dry her eyes and regain her composure….

  
  


……………………………………….

Across town, in a wooded inlet far removed from any remaining excitement, Natalya Neidhart and Tyson Kidd were finishing their first round of coitus as an official (albeit reunited) couple. Natalya bounced in her man’s lap, her pelvis slamming against Tyson with a violent rhythm. 

“Fuck, baby!” She cried out into the night air as she reached one of her multiple climaxes that night. This time, however, she was joined in her release by her erstwhile first love. Before the shapely softball player could protest, Tyson let go of everything he had inside her. 

“Shit, Nattie, I’m sorry,” Tyson offered as he caught his breath. “You’re still on the pill, right?”

Tyson wasn’t currently looking Natalya in the eye, but he could feel her laser-focused gaze on him. “I am, Tyson, but you shouldn’t take that for granted. What if I weren’t?”

Kidd snickered, his glib nature betraying him. “I’d give you a ride to ‘Planned Parenthood’ or the adoption agency of your choice?”

“Very funny, motherfucker. Let me out,” Nattie returned huskily, now crossing the line from mildly irritated to irrationally angry. 

“Where are you going?” Tyson asked with mild amusement in his voice as Nattie dismounted. In just a few efficient movements, Nattie straightened her skirt, pulled her thong underwear up her leg and back into its proper place, and stormed off in a huff. 

“What the fuck, Nattie? You gonna walk home?” Tyson called after her, almost mocking her outrage. He briefly considered following her, before remembering all the times in the past she’d needed to blow off some steam after becoming annoyed with him.

“I’ll be right here!” Tyson called in the direction Natalya had disappeared in. Shaking his head and chuckling again, Kidd pulled a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket and lit one in the same practiced motion all smokers employ.

Ten minutes went by.

Then fifteen.

By minute twenty, Tyson Kidd was officially worried. “I’m gonna fucking kill her,” he muttered to himself as he unfolded his compact frame from the driver’s seat. “I’m gonna make sure she’s okay, then I’m gonna kill her.”

Grabbing his jacket from the backseat and his snub-nosed pistol from the glove compartment, Tyson sauntered off into the thick woods his girlfriend had stomped into some time before. It occurred to Tyson after a hundred or so yards that he could no longer see his vehicle, even with its headlights remaining on and its engine running.

Finally, he approached a clearing. Squinting in the pitch dark, Tyson was sure he could see what looked to be the lovely form of Natalya sitting on a felled tree.

“Babe, you scared me,” he asserted, approaching Natalya. After waiting for an answer, Tyson decided to reach out and nonverbally alert Neidhart to his presence. 

“Nat-” 

The rest of his dearly departed’s first name never escaped Tyson Kidd’s lips. The instant his hand landed on Natalya’s shoulder, the girl’s body fell into a limp heap on the log. Letting out a bloodcurdling scream, Tyson turned away from the scene, now dead-set on running full speed to his car. As his head turned with his body, however, a hooded figure entered his field of vision. Tyson Kidd had zero time to think before a long, heavy metal object cracked his skull.

The young man was dead before he hit the ground. Blunt force trauma to the cranium is often, unlike what one sees in the movies, a fatal occurrence. Kidd’s body crumpled underneath his head the very moment of impact, forcing an awkward landing for the earthly vessel that once contained Tyson’s soul.

The next half an hour was marked by a ghoulish silence. The same hooded figure that ended the lives of both Tyson Kidd and Natalya Neidhart now worked to clear his or her mess, dragging each body back to Tyson’s car before stuffing them both into the trunk. After searching for valuables, and finding Kidd’s gun, the figure slammed the trunk into a closed position. Producing a gas can from a separate vehicle, the killer doused the parked Mustang with gasoline, before also pulling a road flare from up his or her sleeve. Igniting the flare with a dramatic motion, the killer dropped the flare through the sunroof, watching with malicious glee as the flames grew past normal heights, a cruel and satisfied smile parting his or her lips….

_ There you have it. Ep 3 is in the books. I’ll try to get Episode Four out a little quicker. Response has been good, but y’all can do better. Who do you think the killer is now? _

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and all chapters, dedicated to Wes Craven. The godfather of Slash.
> 
> Request a character if you want. I'm not doing anything.


	4. Chapter 4: Questions and Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The police have questions. Can anyone answer them?

Monday morning again arrived too soon for Alexa Bliss’ liking. This time, unlike last week, her opened to the sight of Bryn’s ceiling fan. After a moment, her would-be roommate’s tiny head peeked over the side of her twin mattress to gaze down at her cousin.

“Hi Lexi,” Brynlee murmured softly. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Alexa shook her head, still finding her bearings. “Not exactly. I just got really sad and didn’t want to sleep in the basement by myself.”

Brynlee nodded knowingly. “It’s scary down there.”

Alexa giggled, rising to her feet slowly. “It can be, huh?”

The little girl continued to nod. Alexa, always happy to spend time with her Fifth grade housemate, extended her hand to lead Bryn downstairs to breakfast.

“C’mon, pumpkin,” Alexa brightly called to the curly haired little girl across from her. “Let’s get you some breakfast, then I have to get ready for school.”

Brynlee giggled, delighted at the attention. She smiled brightly and gleefully followed Alexa down the stairs.

What awaited the pair of juveniles downstairs shocked both of them wide awake. John Cena, who ordinarily set all the other house residents at ease with his laid back morning demeanor, was stomping around the kitchen, his apparent purpose written grimly across his face. Aunt Mickie, in contrast, was trying to calm her husband down, to no avail. 

“Morning, girls,” Mickie called, in an attempt to calm John down as well as greeting her two oldest residents. 

“What’s going on, Mickie?” Alexa asked, a look of concern beginning to spread over her unblemished face.

Aunt Mickie looked over at John, who shrugged, as if he was undecided as to the potential harm done in filling Alexa in on the source of his stress.

The big man, already in his uniform, exhaled deeply, before beginning. “I guess there’s no point in not telling you, since you’re gonna hear it the second you get to school, I’m guessing.”

As he spoke, Alexa’s aunt led her oldest daughter into the living room from the kitchen, promising her “cartoons and breakfast,” while secretly hoping to shield Brynlee from the conversation she knew the two were about to have. 

“What’s up, Uncle John?” Alexa asked, more cautiously than she intended.

“Uh,” John hesitated, formulating his next sentences carefully. “About zero two-” he chuckled dryly, then corrected himself. “About two this morning a call came in about a car on fire over near Godwinn Farm. A couple of our guys responded, thinking it was just some kids up to some nonsense.” He stopped here, clearing his throat and trying to steel back emotions that scared Alexa. 

“What, Uncle John?”

“When they did a search of the car and the surrounding areas, they found…” Cena exhaled deeply again, trying not to let what he’d heard and seen affect him. “They found two bodies in the trunk. One of whom was a student at Blue River.”

Alexa’s stomach fell to the floor. Steadying herself on the kitchen table, the young woman processed this slowly. “Wh-Who was it, Uncle John?”

John Cena glanced down at the worn laminate covering the kitchen floor. “Do you know a Natalya Neidhart?”

Alexa attempted to answer vocally, but the words escaped her. She nodded, avoiding eye contact. 

“I met her a couple times. We talked for a few minutes Friday night, but I haven’t really gotten to know anyone… other than Bayley, Dana and Dean.”

John nodded. “Did you see her at the drive-in last night? A couple of people we’ve talked to so far say she bought concessions at the movie around Nine.”

Alexa pondered this a moment, before remembering a conversation she’d had the day before. “I didn’t see her, but I know she’d broken up with Dean’s friend Roman on Saturday. I saw Roman last night and he looked upset. He doesn’t seem like the type that would do something like that, but I don’t really know him.”

Cena nodded for what felt like the millionth time already that day. “‘Roman Reigns’ is the name we’ve heard too.”

“I really don’t think he’s violent. He was all smiles Friday night.”

John grinned, though there was really no humor in it. “He wasn’t heartbroken Friday night.” The musclebound Deputy turned his massive frame back to the counter, taking a giant bite of whatever pastry he’d brought home from the Sheriff’s Office.

“Look,” Cena continued, “I promise to keep your name out of anything that gets said. You’re not a cooperating witness. You’re a high school Junior that lives in my house who saw a friend. I’ll even pretend not to know you if we have to come up there. Fair enough?”

Alexa nodded. “Thanks, Uncle John. You can say ‘hi’ if you see me at school. Everyone knows I live with you and Mickie. If I hear anything today I’ll try to discreetly let you or another Deputy know. Just… don’t make me a snitch, okay?”

John chuckled a bit. “Lexi, I promise you your name will be nowhere near this. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, you didn’t give me any information we didn’t already have.”

Alexa smiled gratefully, nodded, then set about fixing a quick breakfast. In a matter of a few seconds, her egg whites were prepared and her daily routine once again took over. 

……………….

By the time the morning bell rang to signify school being let in, word was out. Natalya Neidhart had met an ugly and undignified end. And, as if on cue, the Gwinnett County Sheriff’s Department had squad cars surrounding the entire property of Blue River High School. 

For Alexa Bliss, the first two periods of the day went by as they usually did; without event. She liked both of her teachers, and she had at least one friend in both classes, and so there was no real drama, though the tension in the air was palpable. 

Eventually, Mrs. McMichael did manage to get her class to focus long enough to sing for twenty minutes or so. And sing they did. Beautifully. Alexa was even entertaining the notion that the gossip might be just that until her Uncle John, along with three other uniformed officers, strode through the door resolutely.

“Debra McMichael?”

The chorus teacher nodded her affirmation. “Can I help you, deputies?”

The man to the left of John nodded. “We’re looking for Roman Reigns. We have some questions.”

Behind and to the left of Alexa, Roman stood cautiously from his seat. 

“Four cops, really?” Dean asked incredulously from the row in front of his best friend. “For ‘questions?’”

“Sit down, Mister Ambrose,” boomed a voice from behind the deputies. The quartet of officers split in between the middle two and Assistant Principal Stephanie McMahon Helmsley strode into the rehearsal space occupied by the fifty or so youths. She fixed her gaze on Dean momentarily, before addressing the entire class.

“These deputies are here investigating the death of Natalya Neidhart and her boyfriend, who I understand might have also gone to school here. If they pull you out of class, you are to go with them. They cannot make you talk to them without a parent present.” Her eyes darted over to Roman, hoping he was receiving the message she was sending him subliminally. “For security and classroom disruption reasons, however, we do ask that you accompany them. Ms. Runnels in the front office or I will be happy to contact your parents if you need us to. I repeat; you do not have to say anything to these deputies without a parent or lawyer present.”

Though it galled Dean to no end to admit it, Mrs. McMahon-Helmsley had done them a great service by telling the students their rights. She could be cold and shrill, but deep down, Dean would begrudgingly admit that she cared for the thousand or so adolescents in her care, even if she didn’t always appear that way. 

Deputy Cena, for his part, hadn’t wanted to go down to the classroom to collect Reigns. He’d pleaded with his superior to allow the school’s administration to do their job; call Reigns out of class and have the deputies escort him to the station from there. But Sheriff John Laurinaitis was having none of that. Blue River was a safe town. A quiet town. And the prevailing thought amongst law enforcement personnel was to get to the bottom of these killings quickly, before national media outlets ran with the story. Laurinaitis also wanted to send the message that his department was taking these slayings seriously, and there was no better way to do that, in his opinion, than public arrests.

John took Roman by the crook of his elbow as the boy made his way to the cluster of grownups. A couple of the deputies had wanted to handcuff the giant Samoan, stating a fear for their well-being that Cena didn’t think was legitimate. He’d promised his two co-workers that he personally would escort Roman both to the squad car and then from the car to the Sheriff's Office. 

After a moment, the convoy of humanity led Roman from the rehearsal space, leaving a stunned bunch of students, as well as their teacher, who was completely unprepared to address an event so monumental as that one.

As Deputy Cena led Roman out of the Fine Arts hallway and into the main thoroughfare, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley kept a steady stream of instructive chatter going, both to make sure Roman knew all his options and to keep herself from thinking about the potential ramifications of one of her students murdering another. 

“...I called your dad as soon as the deputies showed up. He said he’s getting his lawyer to meet him at the Sheriff’s Office. He said not to say a word until they get there.”

Deputy Cena nodded. In his heart of hearts, he didn’t believe a kid like Roman, who he’d met several times before, could commit the heinous crime perpetrated upon Natalya and Tyson. John believed that under the right circumstance, anyone could potentially kill, but that to end lives in a manner as callous as the crime scene appeared to bear out took a special kind of twisted evil.

Sensing a break in McMahon-Helmsley’s monologue, Cena took a minute to address Roman as the party moved through the school’s front doors. 

“Your principal is right. Don’t say anything until your dad or lawyer gets to the office. I really don’t think you killed two people. We just want to make sure your alibi checks out so we can clear you as a suspect.”

Roman nodded, then allowed Deputy Cena to seat him in the back of the brown and tan Sheriff’s squad cruiser. Cena waited for his front seat passenger, a big man with a nameplate on his uniform shirt that read “Kennedy,” and threw the car into gear, stealing away from the high school before a big crowd could gather or pictures could be taken.

…. 

Roman didn’t completely keep his promise to his Vice-Principal. He didn’t stay completely silent. Deputy Cena had assumed his detainee was hungry, having missed lunch, and offered him a ChikFilA sandwich, which Roman readily accepted. They made small talk for a few minutes about football, and his classes, but the subject of the events of the previous evening wasn’t broached. It wasn’t until Sheriff Laurinaitis entered the interrogation room and attempted to ask Roman questions about the murder that Roman clammed up.

After close to a half hour of awkward silence, the Interrogation Room door opened again and Sika Reigns sauntered through, turning his body slightly to fit his abnormally wide frame through the doorway. Behind him was the attorney he’d done business with for almost two decades; Paul Heyman.

“Back away from my client, please,” Heyman began, an air of authority seeping through his businesslike tone. 

“Easy, Mr. Heyman,” Laurinaitis began, clearly overwhelmed by the presence of the cunning attorney.

“I’ll be easy when I am certain my client’s Constitutional rights remain intact.” He plunked himself down on the metal chair to the right of Roman, who looked as amused as he was relieved that his father had procured the services of such a legendarily skilled defense attorney. Sika took the seat across from Roman and slid it to the corner on Roman’s other side, leaving John Cena in the unusual and uncomfortable position of being outnumbered.

“Mr. Heyman,” Cena began, in as even a tone as he’d used in some time, “we just want to hear what Roman was doing last night. If his alibi checks out, he’ll never hear from us again. And I assure you that you can stop this interview at any time if you don’t like where the conversation is heading.”

The aforementioned Heyman cut his gaze to his juvenile client. “Roman, if you don’t have ironclad responses to these questions, I want you not to answer. Is that clear?”

Roman nodded gruffly. There was part of him that wanted to get this out of the way. To prove his innocence before the town grew into a frenzy over the sensational murders. He shrugged, a signal that Cena took to mean that he was ready for the inquiry, and began his line of questions.

“Roman, we have you on surveillance tape at the drive-in arriving between 7:10 and 7:15. Is that what you remember?”

Roman nodded, without speaking. John furrowed his brow. “I need you to answer audibly for the record.”

Reigns rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That sounds right. My friend Seth picked me up around 7. I would’ve driven myself but my brother has my car this weekend.”

John nodded. “Okay.” He glanced down at one of the sheets of paper in front of him. “You weren’t with Seth when the movie started though, were you?”

Roman shook his head. “We saw Natalya and Tyson as soon as we pulled up through the entrance. I was pissed. Seth was trying to make me feel better and I got annoyed, so I walked off. He followed me for a minute but I told him to leave me alone.”

Cena jotted down notes on one of the pages in front of him. There was a tape recorder rolling on their conversation, but it made sense to Roman that Cena would want to make writings of his own.

“Did you stay for the movie?”

Roman nodded his response. “I did. I ran into a girl I was talking to when Natalya and I started our thing. Zelina Vega. She was a freshman last year, and it felt dirty to me to date a fourteen year old, so I tried to let her down gently.”

“But she’s a year older now, huh?” Cena remarked snidely.

Roman threw up his hands in a defensive gesture. “We didn’t do anything we couldn’t take back. She walked up to me and told me she’d heard about what had happened. Gave me a big hug. Invited me to sit with her in her car. She’s got this sweet old classic Fiat Spider convertible. So that’s what I was doing. We made out a little bit but that was it.”

Cena nodded. “Trust me, you’re not here for making out with an underage girl. Especially when you’re still underage too. No one in this building wants to lock you up for that.”

Roman snickered. “What else do you need from me?”

Cena grunted, indicating he was catching his train of thought. “So what happened next? Everything we’ve found so far at the crime scene tells us the murders happened between 10 and midnight. The first 911 call for the car came in about 1 AM.”

Roman interjected himself here. “I was in the house at 10:45. I know that because curfew on school nights is Eleven, and we were cutting pretty close. Matt let me in and saw me go up the stairs. I didn’t leave again.”

Cena nodded. “And you guys live way the hell on the other end of Lake Lanier from the murders.”

Reigns grunted his agreement. “And I don’t have a car. Matt had my keys on him. So I couldn’t have driven myself there at any point.”

“They definitely would’ve been dead at that point. We got the first call not long after that. So, what happened after the movie? That’s the only time you were unaccounted for.”

Roman snickered. “After the movie I told Zelina I’d buy her a soda. The concession stand was closed, so we went to Slater’s.”

“The gas station up by the dam?”

“Yeah,” Reigns confirmed. “Zelina let me drive her car around the lake once. Took about an hour. We stopped for drinks after that. We had the top down and it’s still pretty warm out. Needed a break from the heat and bugs. After that, we went and ‘parked’ for a bit at Steiner Point, and then she dropped me off at home.”

Cena nodded, glancing over at John Laurinaitis, noting the irritated look on the Sheriff’s face. It was clear to John C. that Laurinaitis clearly hoped Reigns was the culprit, so as to save the taxpayers of Gwinnett County, Georgia, a long and expensive investigation. It was also clear to Cena that Roman had nothing to do with the slayings. 

“Okay,” Cena reset, satisfied with what he’d heard. “I think you should assert your fifth amendment privilege from here on out. Don’t talk to the city police. Don’t talk to state troopers. Don’t talk to anyone.”

Roman gave John Cena a look of disbelief before glancing over at his lawyer. 

“That’s good advice, Roman,” Heyman asserted. “I’m just as shocked as you that an officer of the law would be giving a potential suspect such perplexingly wise counsel.”

Cena chuckled. “Well, I happen to not believe he’s our guy for this. I’m gonna call over to Slater’s and see if they have an eyewitness or surveillance tape. If your story checks out, you’re off the list.”

Roman pondered this for a moment, before recalling one more detail from the previous night.

“Talk to Heath.”

Cena’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Heath?”

“Yeah, Heath Slater,” Roman repeated. “He was working last night. His dad owns the store. Him or Ruby. She was working the cash register.”

“Ruby Riott?” Cena inquired. “The girl with all the tattoos and piercings.”

“Yeah,” Reigns confirmed. “I know her a little. She graduated last year. She can ID me easy. We even talked for a few minutes.”

“Ruby Riott,” Cena echoed, jotting the name on his legal pad. He glanced over at Heyman, then back at his detainee. “Okay, well, I’m gonna call over to Slater’s and see if they have security footage. Between that and the eyeball witnesses, that should be enough to solidify your alibi.”

“You are correct, sir,” bellowed the attorney. “Now, if there’s nothing else, my client and I will be leaving-”

Cena cut him off. “I can’t let him leave until we clear him.”

Heyman raised an eyebrow in annoyance. “Are you charging my client?”

Cena shook his head. “No, bu-”

Heyman continued his barrage. “Then we will be leaving. I await your phone call confirming my client’s story. From now on you talk to me, not him. Clear?”

Cena shrugged, speechless for the first time in as long as he could remember, before replying. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s fine.”

“You’re damn right it’s fine,” Heyman retorted. He turned toward Sika. “Get your son home. Do not let him talk to any other cops without me. Understood?”

Sika nodded. Roman stood from the table, extending his bound hands toward Deputy Cena.

“Deputy? The handcuffs, please.” Roman tried his best not to look smug as he watched the uniformed officer unlock the bracelets from around his wrists. 

“Thank you,” was all Roman managed to push out before Heyman and Sika ushered him from the interrogation room.

  
  
  


While Roman was spilling his guts at the Sheriff’s office, Dean Ambrose and Alexa Bliss were trying very hard to settle theirs. Chorus had ended without anyone singing another note. Mrs. McMichael had done everything she could just to make sure the students stayed mostly quiet and in her classroom. Once the bell rang, all anyone could talk about on the way to lunch was Roman Reigns being led out of school by at least four Deputies 

For Alexa, the idea of anyone dying in a fire almost overloaded her emotions. Having sensed this, Dean walked her to lunch, allowing her to hook her arms around his own sinewy bicep and slowly striding into the cafeteria.

“You’re okay, Lexi, just stay with me, okay?”

Alexa nodded, fighting the sickness fighting its way from the pit of her stomach. “I don’t know why this is bothering me so much, other than the fire. I barely knew Natalya.”

Dean snickered humorlessly. “That’s okay. It’s bothering me and I fucking hated Natalya.” Alexa laughed as Dean finished his sentence and initiated a new one. “She hurt my friend and was as fake a human being as I’ve ever met.”

Alexa covered her mouth to keep her own laugh in. Given the circumstances, a loud cackle would’ve been highly inappropriate, but that didn’t stop her sense of humor from twinging as Dean spoke. 

“Do you think Roman killed her?” Alexa asked, almost immediately afraid of the answer. 

Dean shook his head steadfastly, though he wasn’t upset with Alexa for asking. She didn’t know Roman Reigns the way he did. 

“No. I think he probably wanted to, but I’m almost positive he would’ve called me to help him hide the body after if he had.”

The pair made the wide turn to the cavernous cafeteria that marked the dead center of Blue River High school. Built like a circle, Blue River had six halls that splayed out in a 360 degree circle, without the outermost spherical hall. Instead, there was a center spoke that served as the dining hall. 

And, for what it was worth, the food at Blue River really wasn’t too bad. Instead of serving a set menu every single day, as Alexa’s former school had, there were several lines and options to choose from. Dean, ever the good sport, walked Alexa to the salad bar, where she’d procured her nourishment every day the week previous. 

“Thank you, Dean,” the tiny blonde managed to stutter as she regained her bearings.

“Not a problem,” the linebacker retorted. “You want me to save you a seat?”

Alexa nodded lightly. “Please. One with you and near Bayley and Dana, if you can manage it.”

Dean snickered. “That’s a tall order, but I think I can handle that.”

“Thank you, friend,” Alexa returned, the color finally returning to her cheeks. Despite her better judgement, she slid her hand down to take Dean’s, even threading her fingers in between his. Dean glanced down at her, eyebrows raised, as if to say “are you sure?” 

She smiled weakly up at him. “You’re so nice to me,” she cooed softly. “Thank you for having my back. This fire shit is hard for me. I hadn’t really…” she paused, trying to think of the right words. “I didn’t get a chance to process it until we were in chorus. It took me back to Ohio.” Her phrasing grew weaker as she spoke. “Just… don’t leave me, okay?” 

Dean did his best to present a calm exterior. “I got your back, homey. Let’s eat.”

Alexa managed a smile. It was tiny, and not altogether genuine, but it was present, and for the moment, it was enough.

Dean kept his promise. He got his lunch and waited for Alexa to purchase hers. He then walked with her, making sure her emotions didn’t get the better of her, all the way to the far end of the cavernous cafeteria, where their normal table was. Bayley couldn’t help but smile when she saw how genuinely sweet Dean was being, even when she saw her stepbrother mouthing the words “I’ll kill you” when he felt the latina’s grin was getting too noticeable. 

For Alexa, this was comfort. Dean sat to her immediate left, making quiet conversation as the world passed around them. Bayley, Dana, Zack, Seth, and Charlotte all chimed in with concern for their friend, who to the best of their knowledge was currently in Gwinnett County lockup. To the tiny blonde in a “Raiders Cheer” polo shirt, however, there was only Dean Ambrose. Her protector, comfort, and companion. And, she admitted to herself, she was falling hard for him. And that thought scared her as much as anything else.

………….

John Cena was quite relieved, and more than a little surprised, at how well Roman Reigns’ story held up. He started with the security footage at Slater’s. Sure enough, it showed the muscular boy stopping at the front counter to converse with Ruby, with the date and time in bold white letters and numbers at the bottom right hand corner of the screen. 

He’d also sent a female officer to interview Zelina Vega. John supposed he could’ve had the tiny latina brought to the precinct, but there was no reason to frighten a potential witness. She verified Roman’s presence in her vehicle, and confirmed his alibi to within about five minutes of Roman’s timetable. 

Which was just as well to John. Deputy Cena had dealt with the Reigns family on a handful of occasions, mostly in social or church settings, and it was outside of Cena’s comprehension that the youngest son of an upstanding familial presence that had roots going back in Gwinnett County for over eighty years could kill in cold blood. Deputy Cena poured over the murder case file, which struck him differently now that he wasn’t looking at a scorned lover as the perpetrator. One thing John was sure of, however, was that this slaying wasn’t random. There was an element of hatred in these particular actions that belied the sense that at the very least, the killer wanted his victims to suffer. 

Also weighing heavily in the back of Deputy Cena’s mind was the latest in Mike Mizanin’s disappearance. After several days of trying, the Mizanins had finally returned contact with the Sheriff’s department. None of the house staff at any of the Mizanin’s properties had seen or been in contact with Mike since he’d last appeared at school the Thursday previous. And Maryse Oullette’s parents were officially “flipping out,” having boarded a plane to Atlanta from Montreal the evening before. There was a rumor that they were meeting a representative from the Canadian Embassy at the Atlanta airport before descending upon the northern suburb. And they were a dream to deal with compared to the Mizanins, who’d known since Friday that their son was at the very least skipping school, yet had only gotten around to begin returning to their spacious mansion that day. It’d be two more days before the obscenely wealthy couple finally made it home.

Grabbing his office phone quickly, John pressed a speed-dial number and waited. 

“Hey, it’s me. I think we should have a couple deputies waiting for the Oullette’s when they land… Yeah, right at the gate. We can get real proactive… Well, I’m not sure I give a shit what Sheriff Laurinaitis thinks at this point. We’re a year from the next election and he can explain why he didn’t want to be as active in solving the most grisly murders in our town in a hundred years if he puts a kibosh on it…”

Cena’s conversation continued on, the impending invasion of French-Canadians foremost on his mind. Before long, however, the aspect of a few foreign nationals stopping in on last minute notice would be the least of John Cena’s problems...

…………………….

  
  


The rest of the day held more of the same for the gang. Teachers did their best to reclaim the focus of the pupils in their care, and in turn the students gave a token attempt to learn, but everyone in the building had the same concern in mind; the potential guilt of Roman Reigns. 

Dean sleep walked through football practice, all the while trying to keep at least a passive eye on Alexa. The poor girl had walked in a daze all afternoon, and it mystified Dean how much that fact worried him. He’d had a brief chance to walk and talk with her at the end of evening workouts for football and cheerleading, and Dean had assured the tiny girl he’d be staying at his mom’s house tonight, which was only a couple of streets over from her own home. 

Dean didn’t mind staying there. In truth, it made him slightly happier to be in his mother’s well-worn abode than his dad’s sprawling mansion overlooking Lake Lanier. For one, there were really no rules. Dean was pretty much on his own until his mom returned home from her job at Holly’s Auto Parts and Service, and that usually wasn’t until after Eight pm. And that was only on days she didn’t go to the bar after. That habit, along with an astounding lack of judgement when it came to spending money, had led to the Ambrose’s divorce when Dean was much younger.

But at the moment, Dean was completely alone. Part of him welcomed the solitude. So much of his day was spent serving the interests of others. His teachers. Coaches. Peers. All of whom wanted something from him. At his mom’s house, no one could bother him unless he allowed it. 

Being there also permitted him one of his favorite vices; smoking. He hadn’t done it regularly since Christmas, but every once in a while Dean still indulged in the habit. At his mom’s, he reasoned internally, no one would know if the scent came from him or the residual cigarette smoke that aerated his mother’s residence. The linebacker sat in the open window of the great room of his mom’s house, blowing smoke out into the world. From across the domicile, however, Ambrose heard the bright PING of an incoming instant message. Crossing to his computer, Dean grinned as he saw who’d sent him correspondence via AOL.

** _LexiBelle84_ ** _ : Hey. WYD? _

Ambrose wasn’t sure what was happening. Alexa had quickly imprinted herself as Dean’s primary companion at school, but there’d been very little communication other than in-person between them during nights and weekends.

Dean pounded at his keyboard, eagerly responding.

**DeAm55** :  _ Nm. @ moms. Stay w her sometimes during wk. Closer 2 school & less rules here. Y? _

From just a couple hundred or so yards away, Alexa inhaled deeply. She’d always had trouble putting herself out there, but this was different. She had total faith in Dean’s willingness to take her mental health seriously, but if her crush said “no” to the next question, Alexa wasn’t sure if she’d be able to function for the next few days.

** _LexiBelle84_ ** :  _ John & Mickie took kids for ice cream & walk. Invited me, but I had HW 2 get done. Here alone. Except for Macy. She says hi. UR her new BFF. N E Way, kinda eerie over here all by myself w everything happening. Don’t like being alone. Wanna come over & watch tv? _

Dean inhaled deeply. This was exactly what he’d been waiting for. There was only one issue; if Linda Ambrose got home before he returned, no matter how close he was, she’d call his dad. And that was unacceptable. Dean’s chest tightened as he pecked out a response. 

** _DeAm55_ ** :  _ Wish I could. Mom will call dad if not here when she gets home from work. Unacceptable. Would love to host U & Macy here tho. Ur house is super close to my moms. Got some beer. About 2 order pizza. Fave kind? Will add to order. _

Alexa smiled as she read Dean’s volley back. Of course she would go over there as soon as her new used car would take her. She couldn’t appear too eager, however.

** _LexiBelle84_ ** _ : K. Lemme freshen up a lil. Get Macy calm & ready. Order me thin crust supreme plz. No olive. My absolute fave. There’s an open vodka in cabinet. Want me 2 bring? _

Ambrose grinned. 

** _DeAm55_ ** _ : Hell yes I do. Will order now. Get here ASAP. Freaks & Geeks preview about 2 start. Don’t make me miss. _

With that, Alexa pulled her mussed hair back into a hasty ponytail, before giving herself a once-over in her armoire mirror. “Good enough,” she mused to herself. Calling her trusty puppy into the room, Alexa snatched up her backpack and slid into her flip flops, grabbing her car keys from a hook hung next to her door and leashing the lab to the retractable line her mom had given her a year prior. Taking the stairs two at a time, Alexa Bliss stopped at the liquor cabinet to procure the promised spirits, then hurriedly strode out the front door, stopping to lock both the deadbolt and door lock, and made her way to the compact car she’d purchased just a few days prior. Allowing her dog to leap across the opening driver’s door, Alexa giggled as Macy curled up in her passenger’s seat, as though it’d been picked out just for the spoiled pooch. 

“Ready, Mace?” Alexa asked. 

Instead of responding, the puppy just raised her head, as if to say “I don’t care where we’re going, just get me to the pizza.”

“That’s what I thought,” Alexa returned. Turning her key in the ignition, Alexa sparked the car to life, threw the gear shift into ignition, and sped away.

…………………………………

Dean Ambrose was pretty happy with himself. His mom had just called the house, brusquely letting him know that it would be at least another two hours before she would even be able to consider coming home, and THAT was contingent upon her not driving out to Windham’s Pub out by Highway Twenty, a thirty minute drive from her work and almost an hour from her home. She didn’t outright say it, but a trip to “Windy’s” never lasted less than two hours where Dean’s mom was concerned. Dean hung up before she’d had a chance to respond to his “ok,” then hastily prepared for his visitor. As he straightened the living room, pizza having been ordered, Dean’s phone began chirping the familiar ringtone he’d chosen.

“Ro?” Dean asked, seeing his caller ID at the exact moment he’d pressed “accept” on his display.

“Hey. It’s me. You gotta help me, man. Come to your back door. Please.”

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. Of course his best friend would need him now, when the prettiest girl Dean had ever laid eyes on was making the short jaunt over to his house. 

“Fine,” Dean groaned into the receiver. Hanging up the call, Dean sprinted down the stairs to the back basement door, where his best friend since childhood was apparently waiting for his arrival.

Ambrose came to a stop in front of the white wooden door. Exhaling deeply, not allowing himself to consider what was going on with his compadre, Dean pulled the doorknob and adjusted his eyes to the setting sun.

“Dean! Oh man, I’m so glad it’s you. You gotta help me, man!” Roman Reigns sounded desperate, as though he’d done something stupid and was just now considering the repercussions.

“The fuck, man? What’re you doing here?” Dean managed to spit out before Roman continued.

“Those cops tried to pin Nattie’s murder on me! They said they had fingerprints and my alibi didn’t hold up! I took off while they were taking me out to the car. You gotta let me hide here until I clear my name, man.”

Dean felt his heart begin pounding. To make matters worse, he could vaguely make out a few silhouettes out by the treeline of his mother's backyard. Squinting, Dean attempted in vain to try to identify the shadowy outlines, but they were just a bit too far away. 

“Okay, Roman, get in here.” Trying his best not to lose his composure, Dean did his best to usher his best friend into the basement, while at the same time feeling his heart skip several beats as his ears detected the approach of a vehicle he could only assume was Alexa Bliss’s.

Ambrose’s eyebrows rose straight to the sky as Roman Reigns began to chuckle. That expression from the giant Samoan turned into a full blown laugh as the wraiths from the twilight also began bellowing with guffaws.

After another moment of uncertainty, Dean realized what was happening. At least partially. Roman’s Samoan cousins were fucking with him. 

“Jimmy! Jey! You douchebags!” Dean declared into the night, no hint of good nature in his voice.

Roman cut him off. “You should’ve seen your fuckin’ face, man. Holy shit!”

Dean’s humiliation grew exponentially whenever a human form emerged from the woods, and there were far more than he was expecting. Jimmy and Jey Uso, twin linebackers a year behind Dean, were the first two to reveal themselves, but Dean was mortified to find out that Seth Rollins, Bayley, and Dana Brooke were also hiding out in the deciduous array. 

“Shit!” Ambrose exclaimed loudly as the parade of classmates grew and grew, before Roman grabbed him by the arm.

“Who’s that pulling up, Dean?”

The now borderline angry Ambrose contemplated his answer, before deciding to speak the truth. “I invited Alexa like thirty minutes ago. That was about five minutes before your horseshit started.”

“Alexa’s coming?” Bayley asked, not at all grasping why Dean was so agitated that they would all be there. 

“I think she just pulled up,” Dean spat, his visions of a cozy early fall evening spent with “the new girl” quickly circling an imaginary toilet bowl. 

“Ohh! Yay! I’ll go let her in!” Having been to her stepbrother’s mom’s house several times, Bayley bounded past Ambrose and headed upstairs. Dean rolled his eyes at his stepsister’s presumption, but he couldn’t be irritated too much. Finally, he looked back at Reigns and the remainder of the treeline gathering.

“Well, get the fuck in, if you’re staying, but you’re ordering your own pizza. I only ordered for me and Lex.”

Roman chuckled. “Sorry we fucked up your date at six-thirty on a Monday, Dean.”

“It’s not a…” He trailed off as Roman sauntered past him and into the Ambrose basement.

“Date,” he muttered to himself, not at all sure of his own words. Glancing to his right, he saw Dana, Seth, and the Uso’s still waiting to be invited in. Sighing deeply, Ambrose shrugged and gestured toward the open door. “You might as well. I didn’t invite Roman, either, and he’s in there.”

Quickly, and with excited grins, the quartet of stragglers strode in the doorway and up the small staircase quickly, making almost silent chatter as they spread out on the main floor.

………………………………………

Alexa couldn’t decide if she was more sad or angry. She’d extended the invite to Dean to watch tv as a low-key but earnest attempt to get to know the boy better away from prying eyes at school or related functions. She hadn’t for a single second anticipated Dean summoning a half-dozen of his closest friends to join them. Only the imminent arrival of their pizza gave the tiny blonde a respite from the constant horseplay and other nonsense in the living room. 

She wasn’t completely furious. Bayley had again taken responsibility for Macy, allowing Alexa at least some carefree time. Even now, as Lexi stood in the kitchen, she could hear her puppy playfully wrestling with the dark-haired Latina.

Her train of thought was abruptly de-railed by the erratic approach of Dean Ambrose. In his hands, he held two pizza boxes, which ostensibly held dinner for both of them. He smiled warmly, but let his expression sink when he saw the somewhat somber look on Alexa’s face.

“What’s up, Lex? Not hungry?”

The petite girl snickered. “Starving. It’s just…” Now she stopped, trying to choose her next words carefully. 

“Yeah?” Dean pressed, although he was pretty certain he knew where this was going.

“I thought you and I were gonna get to spend some time together away from everyone. That’s why I IM’ed you originally. You’ve been so sweet to me and I wanted to, I dunno,” she paused briefly, letting her gaze hit the floor. She gave a deep, calming exhale, before steeling her feelings and re-focusing on Ambrose. “I wanted to maybe snuggle and watch a movie or just talk to you. But if you don’t feel like you don’t want that with me anymore, you can just tell me. You didn’t have to invite a bunch of folks over to let me know this wasn’t a date.”

Dean’s heart sank. It genuinely made his soul hurt to hear the sadness in Alexa’s voice. At the same time, he had a legitimate excuse. One that didn’t even involve stupidity on his part. 

“I didn’t invite any of these assholes,” Dean began in earnest. “Roman came banging on the basement door and pretended he ran from the cops when I opened up. We didn’t have practice today because of all the police presence at school, so I guess he called Seth and everyone else and thought it’d be funny if they came over here and hid while Ro scared the shit out of me.”

“Really?” Alexa asked, her countenance brightening and smile growing at the thought of such a prank.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. His own smile turned into a knowing smirk. “You wanted to snuggle with me?”

Alexa tried to hide her face turning bright, beet red. “Well, yeah. Like I said, I really needed you today and you came through.” She glanced up at him, fingering a lock of stray hair from in front of her face. “You’re the only person here other than John and Mickie who know what happened before I came here. And you haven’t treated me like a crazy person, even if I probably am.”

Dean snickered, though it was friendly. “Like I told you before, if you’re crazy, what does that make me for being into crazy chicks?”

The young woman shook her head, biting her tongue slightly and rolling her eyes. “Yeah, yeah.” Without missing a beat, she took the pizza boxes from her potential love interest and fished a fresh slice out. She took a giant bite of her first piece, moaning softly in reflection at how good the treat tasted to her. 

“Damn that’s good. It’s not Donato’s, but it’s pretty good.”

Dean snickered. “That an Ohio thing?”

Alexa grinned. “No. It’s a ‘not Georgia’ thing.”

The pair continued their lighthearted banter a moment longer, before the sounds of approaching footsteps curtailed their flirtation into a more straightforward conversation. 

“Something smells good!” Jey Uso exclaimed as he bounded into the kitchen.

“Nope,” Dean returned, stymying the young man’s attempt to commandeer any pizza from the existing orders. “I told you fucking freeloaders this is for me and Lexi. Order your own shit. I’m serious. The only thing we’re sharing is vodka.”

Jimmy Uso perked up, having followed directly behind his brother. “Where the liquor at?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s in the freezer. My mom’s got a regulation bar stashed up there, too.” Dean pointed above the refrigerator, where several large glass bottles gathered together like a huddle of sentinels watching over the kitchen. “Knock yourselves out. Order your own pizza. Just don’t steal mine or Lexi’s shit. I will fuck you up. Understood?”

Each Uso exchanged a curious glance with the other. “Yeah. Okay…” Jimmy trailed off, before coming to his senses and reaching for a fifth of brown liquor. Dean turned back toward the tiny blonde. 

“Can I make you a drink? I’m a shitty bartender, but I’ve been told I have a heavy elbow.”

Alexa giggled and shook her head. “No thanks. We have practice tomorrow. I will take a beer though.”

Dean grinned. “One beer for the lady,” he exclaimed playfully, reaching into his mom’s off-white fridge. “And two for me,” he continued, much more softly. Bliss’s laugh grew louder. 

“It’s a school night, Dean.”

Ambrose stared down at his hands, contemplating what Alexa said. “You’re right,” he agreed solemnly. “Better make a mixed drink, too.”

Everyone in the kitchen shared a hearty laugh, even as Roman and Dana plowed through the doorway on a search for libation. 

…………………………….

Alexa wouldn’t have admitted this to herself in the moment, because she was still irrationally irritated over the half dozen or so peers that showed up to ruin her “get to know you” time with Dean, but she was really having fun. She’d never met a group of kids as instantly accepting as the ones in Blue River, and everyone in the worn-in living room was doing their best to make Alexa feel at home. She was working a nice buzz, though she was careful not to drink so much that her aunt or uncle would figure out she was intoxicated. “It’s not so much that they’d be upset I was drinking,” she reasoned with herself. “Just that it’s a school night.” 

The only issue that even threatened to derail their amusement was the issue of what to watch. Dean was “all in” for a special preview broadcast of the pilot for a show called “Freaks and Geeks.” Bayley and Alexa were fine with that selection, but Roman and Dana pushed hard for “ _ 10 Things I Hate About You _ ,” a movie just released to DVD that had come out the previous spring. Eventually, Dana’s DVD choice won out. She’d brought a copy from Blockbuster, where she worked when she had time, and Alexa couldn’t say with any honesty that she was upset by the choice. 

What was readily apparent to both Dean and Alex was exactly how natural they felt around each other. They’d made an unspoken agreement not to display any affection in front of this group, yet Alexa found herself subconsciously scooting closer to the object of her desires. Still, she found room to pay attention to other things. Like how Bayley and Macy appeared to be best friends. Or how Dana couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of the screen of her cell phone.

“What’s going on, Dana?” Jimmy Uso asked.

“Nothing,” Dana sighed, her voice betraying her inner annoyance. “Zack can’t come over here because he’s gotta finish up at the restaurant and he also has to make sure Enzo and Cass get settled okay.”

“Who?” Seth called from the other couch.

Dana rolled her eyes, apparently unhappy with this latest development. “His cousins. They moved down from New York over the last few days. They were at school today.” She stopped to set her hands in the proper position for her next statement. “Cass is about six foot nine and Enzo is maybe five foot ten, but they’re both supposedly fantastic athletes. Got in some trouble in New York, so they’re here.”

Dean’s eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Dana affirmed. “They were in school today, but I didn’t get a chance to meet them with everything happening. Zack said they both play football, so I’m guessing you’ll see them tomorrow.”

Dean nodded. “Dope.” From his other side, he could hear Alexa conversing with Bayley, while the two lovingly pet Macy, who was curled between them on Dean’s mom’s worn-in sofa. The lanky young man smiled. What made him happier than anything, more even than football, was being with his friends. His train of thought was interrupted by Dana “shushing” everyone as the movie began. Everyone abided the blonde’s wishes, but Alexa brushed her hand over Dean’s, with just enough force to let him know she’d done it intentionally. He glanced over at her, his heart skipping a beat, and she rewarded him with a wink and a broad, affectionate smile, before turning her attention to Heath Ledger and Julia Stiles…

……………………..

Zack Ryder wasn’t having nearly as much fun as his compatriots. With practice canceled, he’d chosen to make a little extra spending money washing dishes at his parent’s restaurant. That wasn’t what was bothering him, however. What currently had his ire raised was the presence of a certain female server. Taya Valkyrie, to be exact. 

Taya, who’d graduated from Blue River the spring previous, wasn’t what any reasonable person would consider “rational.” She’d delayed going to college for a year to save money, which would’ve been fine, but she’d also been unable to make a change that had haunted her for the last few months; an unhealthy attraction to Zack Ryder. It had started innocently enough. Zack was a friendly, warm human being, and his kind treatment of Taya led to her developing feelings for him that he hadn’t intended, but wasn’t going to argue with. They’d spent most of the summer hooking up in the back of Zack’s vehicle, but with the new school year Zack’s mind was squarely on Dana Brooke. 

This was a major problem for Valkyrie, who’d made her mind up that Zack was going to love her whether he liked it or not. So now, while he toiled away at the stainless steel cookware and warming trays, he also had to dodge the aggressive come-ons of the older blonde. 

“Zack, baby, what’s wrong?” Taya cooed, as seductively as she could muster at 10 pm on a Monday. As she purred at her potential paramour, she allowed her hands to run down the front of Ryder’s apron. Growing annoyed, Zack exhaled deeply and removed Taya’s offending limbs from his body.

“Taya. Seriously. I don’t want this anymore.”

The busty blonde gave a giant, exaggerated pout. “Why not, Zacky?”

Ryder snickered. “There’s a girl at school I like. At high school. Because I’m still in high school. Why aren’t you at North Georgia? You got into school there…”

Taya shrugged, though she was still entirely too close for Zack’s liking. “I can’t afford it yet. I have to save money. Although, you could solve a lot of problems by just being my boyfriend…”

“What?” Zack fired back incredulously as Taya twirled her hair between her fingers. “How would that solve anything?”

Taya snickered again. “Then you could knock me up and your rich-ass parents could support us.”

Zack laughed, purely out of disbelief. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely not.” He turned back toward his work, hoping to look his coworker in the eye. “There is no way I’m getting jammed up like that. Mom and Dad already said they won’t get caught up in any paternity shit. They hate Springer and Maury and all that nonsense…”

Taya scoffed at this latest assertion. “Look, Zacky. You and I have great chemistry. You really think you’re gonna get from some high school skeeze what you get from this?” She ran her hands down both sides of her figure, which even Zack had to admit was unbelievably exquisite, right before reminding himself how completely insane she was. “Getting it on with me was the best thing that ever happened to you. We both know it.”

Zack fired back. “Seriously. We’re done, man. You’re so pushy and weird. Aren’t you like, twenty? Go find some frat boy and pound sand.”

Taya chomped her gum, angrily, before rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Your loss.” She spun on her heels, striding away from Ryder, who still wasn’t sure what was happening. She turned her head back toward the perplexed dishwasher. “And tell your mom I quit. I’m leaving this shitty town.”

Without waiting for a reply, Valkyrie stormed out of the dish pit, before haughtily gathering her belongings and shoving the front door open, leaving a bewildered Mickie James at the hostess stand and her former place of employment in the dust. 

………………………………………………………………………………………………

It didn’t take long for Taya to regret her rash actions. As she loitered just down the block from Ryder’s grill, it occurred to her that she might’ve waited to quit until she had a ride. 

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she combed through her purse in search of a cigarette. Just then her cell phone chirped, alerting the defiant blonde that she had a call. She rolled her eyes upon gazing at the tiny green screen. “Hello?” She spat as she answered her phone, her impatience bleeding through in her voice. She listened for a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I need a ride home.” She listened again, holding a crumpled pack of smokes to her lips, drawing the last cigarette from its wrapping without touching it with her hands. She rested the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she flicked her lighter.

“Fifteen minutes?” She exclaimed, before taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah that’s fine. Can you bring me some smokes? I’m all out,” she continued, before taking the thin cigarette between her two fingers and blowing out deeply. Her voice softened as the nicotine coursed through her system, soothing her sour mood. “Yeah. Thanks a lot, babe. See you soon.”

Before she could hear any response, Taya hit the red “end” button on her keypad. Though it wasn’t cold in Georgia yet, even at night, there was a chill in the air that accompanied the gorgeous autumn season in the region north of Atlanta. The nip in the air was enough to cause her to hop up and down on her toes slightly. “Fuck,” she muttered to herself again. 

She idled a moment, contemplating what’d transpired inside Ryder’s just a few minutes before. Her irritation now subsiding, she admitted to herself that losing her temper with a boy whose family had been so good to her was probably a mistake. In addition to Zack treating her like a queen over the summer, taking her on actual dates and even including her in his family’s vacation to the upscale St. Simon’s Island off the coast of Southern Georgia. But they’d had a substantial argument right before school let back in, and Taya ended up losing her temper. “I’m noticing a recurring theme here,” she muttered to herself. 

She’d dragged her smoke all the way almost to the nub. She was hoping the guy she’d asked for a ride would remember she needed some. Now just fidgeting and shifting from one foot to the other, Taya began humming a song she’d gotten stuck in her head during her long shift at Ryder’s. Her last one, as it turned out. 

Between every storefront on the main thoroughfare in downtown Blue River was an alley. This wonderful design feature had been implemented when the town was rebuilt following a devastating fire in 1865. Blue River, unfortunately, had been directly in the path of Union Army General William Tecumseh Sherman and his notorious “March to the Sea.” He’d harmed that part of the world so spectacularly that the mere mention of his name still made some of the area’s senior citizens swear and spit openly. Following these events, the town’s leadership decided to add space in between the structures, to allow for access to fire prevention. It also made for some quality concealment opportunities when trying to scare a friend. Taya herself had seen Zack’s idiot friends Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins spend the summer scaring the hell out of each other with pranks. 

Which is why it didn’t seem strange when Taya saw a shadowy figure slip into the alley across the street and two buildings over. She hadn’t seen anyone walking up the street that way, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Kids often played in front of the businesses their parents were occupying. It did seem strange when Taya caught additional movement from her peripheral vision. The shadows were dancing to her left and almost behind her. 

“Hello?” She called out, her blood pressure suddenly rising. “Who’s there?”

The buxom blonde wasn’t sure if she was expecting a response or not, but the eerie silence paled the normally brash girl. “This isn’t funny, James. I’m serious.”

Still no answer. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t have bothered Taya. Blue River was a safe town. A picturesque, family-friendly hamlet in the northern tip of Gwinnett County, one of the most vibrant areas of any of Atlanta’s suburbs. But that was before two people got bludgeoned and set on fire out in the woods earlier in the week. The fates of Tyson Kidd and Natalya Neidhart in her head, Taya cautiously inched toward the alley behind her that she thought she’d seen a shadowy figure scamper into.

Turning the corner, her eyes grew wide with anticipation as she wondered what was waiting for her. To her complete shock, the small egress between buildings was devoid of life. “What the hell?” She muttered to herself. If this “prank” had ever been funny, it certainly wasn’t at this moment. Taya could’ve sworn she’d seen a figure shimmy into that enclave, and she wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t. What she did see, to her immense relief, was the worn Chevrolet Camaro she was expecting pull in to a spot on the curb near Ryder’s Grill.

“Taya?” The car’s driver called. Taya rolled her eyes. James Ellsworth had been after her since she was old enough to be gone after. He’d been a Senior when Taya was a Freshman, and while so many others had graduated from Blue River and gone on to bigger and better things, Ellsworth had stayed behind. At the moment he was working at Holly’s Auto, changing customers’ oil and trying to sell tire upgrades the customer may or may not have needed. That’s where he’d driven from to pick up the girl he’d so relentlessly been after the last few years. He sprang from the driver’s seat as Taya strode resolutely into his view.

“I’m here, James, hold on.” In spite of her contempt for his general countenance, she was happy to see her would-be suitor at the moment. She was so happy, in fact, that she failed to notice the shadowy figure slip behind James’ driver seat and out of any helpful view. She threw her arms around the scrawny neck of her rescuer, planting a big kiss on his neck. 

“Wha’ was that for?” Ellsworth asked, bewildered. 

“I’m glad you’re here. There was some weird shit happening.”

“What do you mean, ‘weird shit?’” James asked. 

“I dunno,” Taya returned. “Like, someone was watching me and moving around in the shadows. I’m sure I’m just being para-”

She never got to finish her sentence. As she spoke, a sudden pair of gloved hands reached up from the back seat and sliced the throat of her chaffeur. Before the pain even fully registered, James Ellsworth had both hands to his trachea, his attempt at words of warning only coming out as gurgles. 

“WHAT THE F-”

Poor Taya was never getting to finish her thoughts anymore. This time it was her throat being cut. The same long, shining knife that dispatched her unrequited crush took her own life, though she attempted to reach behind her to ID her killer as she expired. The figure in the back of the vehicle sneered, before dipping their knife in the warm, saturating blood of James Ellsworth. For the first time in his or her set of murders, the killer scrawled a crude symbol on the inside of the back window before slithering out the car door and into the still black night….

  
  



	5. Chapter Five: The Hazards of Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation is slow. So is the week. But there is always danger around the corner.

_ Had great view numbers on chapter 4. Let’s get those reviews up! Also, the Lake I mentioned in chapter 3, Lake Lanier, is 100% real and 100% deadly. So far this year it’s caught a drunk driver leaving a scene and a couple others. Lanier is a bad bitch, and she gonna get her bodies. _

_ Also, in this chapter (or next chapter) we’ll be referencing Gwinnett Place Mall. If you’re a fan of the show  _ ** _Stranger Things, _ ** _ just think of the Starcourt Mall. The Starcourt Mall set is Gwinnett Place Mall. I know that because I worked on that show and that set. The Waldenbooks sign? Your boy made that thing light up. Anyway, I digress. In the late 90’s it would’ve looked pretty much like it did in that show. Mall of Georgia had just opened and hadn’t completely sapped the life from Gwinnett Place yet. Just some background info so you can see the story in your mind better.  _

  
  


Chapter 5: The Hazard of Family

This particular part of John Cena’s job never got any easier. For years, the town of Blue River and it’s Sheriff’s Department dealt with less than 5 murders a year. There were parts of spacious Gwinnett County that had much more frequent homicides, but the massive natural boundary formed by Lake Lanier seemed to curb most of the violent crime. Now, however, the already beleaguered agency was dealing with four homicides in a little over twenty-four hours. 

This pair of slayings was particularly ugly. John hadn't actually seen anyone get their throat cut since he’d returned from Desert Storm almost a decade prior. It was a common method of political execution by the dictator in power there, but very rarely was it used to kill a stranger. Throat slashings tended to be more personal. More motivated by passion. In fact, John couldn’t remember ever having seen a murder of this type in any of the case files he’d been perusing the last week or so. 

“John!” A feminine voice broke his intense inner monologue. 

“Michelle,” he returned resolutely. Michelle McCool Calloway had long been his partner, before taking an extended break for maternity leave. She and her husband, Mark, had been trying for over a decade, and the announcement that she was expecting lifted the morale of the whole department. After a harrowing, high-risk pregnancy, Michelle had given birth to a bouncing, nine pound baby boy. She’d taken a few weeks extra from work to spend time with the new addition to her family, but her break was up and her return brought with it a tremendous sense of relief for Cena. 

“Hey Michelle,” he returned, extending his arms for a friendly embrace. With a broad smile, the statuesque blonde amiably hugged her co-worker. 

“So much for an easy first day back, eh?” Michelle mused, taking in the crime scene. 

“Right?” John replied flippantly, frustrated at the second set of homicides in such a short stretch of time. 

“So what do we have here?” Michelle asked, trying to get back into the swing of her career after a long break.

“Oh, you know. Double homicide. Throat slashing. Looks like the perp was hiding in the backseat.”

“Anything on the victims?” McCool inquired of her partner. Asking procedural questions was a good way for her to keep her mind off of how gruesome this murder was.

Without taking his eyes from whatever forensic evidence he was poking at on the ground, John recited the information like it was second nature. “Taya Valkyrie, nineteen. Sounds like she’d just quit her job down the block at Ryder’s B&G, no priors, but she was a terrible driver apparently. License suspended for a laundry list of traffic citations.” He sighed, standing up slowly. “And one James Ellsworth, twenty. Several prior arrests. Narcotics possession, possession with intent to distribute, one felony burglary, and a cornucopia of lesser charges.”

“Sounds like your standard townie loser,” Michelle surmised. John nodded his response. 

“Yeah. He might’ve been graduating to ‘creep,’ though. State sex crimes office sent this over.” He produced a Manila folder from atop the hood of his squad car. “Ongoing investigation had him involved with underage girls. He hadn’t done anything illegal yet, but it sounds like it was just a matter of time.”

McCool snickered. “Fucking lowlife. Any immediate links to the murders at the drive-in?”

Cena pondered this, then shook his head. “Eh. Both couples. Both girls blonde and… well-equipped.” Michelle cackled at the attempted tact with which Cena was describing the young women. “Both in cars. But the other murders seemed planned. Cruel. These seem like a drug deal gone bad or something.” He looked up at his returning partner. “We get the state arrest record back on the female vic yet?”

Michelle glanced around, before shrugging and reaching for the two way radio headset on her lapel. “Hey, dispatch, we get a return on that ‘twelve eighty seven’ for our female victim?”

After a moment of silence, a woman’s voice replied. “That’s a positive on that. We sent the dossier with your backup unit. It should be there momentarily.”

“Copy that, thank you,” McCool barked back politely. 

John continued his loop around the vehicle. He stopped, his brow furrowing as he saw the crude symbol drawn by the attacker on the rear windshield. 

“Michelle, you see this?”

McCool strained her eyes, but couldn’t see what Cena was referring to from her vantage point. “No, what are you looking at?” She followed Cena’s pointed ginger. “What’s it say?”

John shook his head in annoyance. “I’m not sure it says anything. It’s some kind of symbol, a calling card. This guy Ellsworth was a garden variety ‘wannabe gangster,’ maybe he ran afoul of some actual ones.” Cena stretched out to his full height. “When the forensics team gets here, remind me to have them get polaroids of that. I have a friend on the anti-gang task force at Atlanta PD. If that’s gang related, he’ll have seen it before.”

Michelle nodded, noting that the aforementioned forensics van was turning onto Main Street some three blocks down from them. John continued. “I don’t think this has anything to do with anything, but if you can tastefully and discreetly get me Maryse Oullet’s measurements, I’d like to rule out ‘fetish killer.’”

The statuesque blonde laughed. “What a way to make a living.” She briefly took in the aroma of fresh coffee emanating from Hennig’s Perfect Pour around the way from their current location.

“I’m gonna go get a tall cup from Hennig’s,” Michelle called to her partner. “You want anything?”

John briefly mulled over the question, before reaching for his wallet and nodding, dislodging a twenty dollar bill and handing it to Michelle. “Gimme a double tall ‘half caff’ and a Danish if they have any.”

McCool rolled her eyes. “Typical cop.” Cena laughed loudly as he processed the exasperation in his new old partner’s voice. She strode away, the pride of wearing the uniform causing an instant improvement in her posture. Shaking his head, Cena returned to his current task, smiling slightly as the Gwinnett County Sheriff’s Mobile Forensic Unit raced up the street toward him to scour the crime scene for additional insight into who might be killing Blue River’s young people…

…………………

Blue River High School was only a little less chaotic than the downtown area was becoming. By Second period, Alexa had heard from several people what had happened across the street from Ryder’s Grill. And once again, it had shaken her to her very core. Lunch was louder than normal, both because of the latest gossip and because Zack Ryder’s boisterous cousin Enzo Amore had captivated the attention of everyone around him. Alexa hadn’t yet heard why it was that Enzo and his friend Colin had moved from Staten Island to Blue River, Georgia, but she assumed it was simply because they had a relative in the district they’d come to stay with.

As Alexa understood it, this was a fairly common practice in this area. The public schools around here were excellent, and up until very recently Blue River was considered one of the safest towns in America. What confused Alexa was why the two young men had failed to enroll in school until the second week of the semester. Before she could make any inquiries, however, another figure caught her eye.

“Who’s that?” The tiny blonde asked Dana, who’d taken her now regular seat to the left of Alexa. The two girls, along with Bayley, who was perched on a hard plastic stool across from the pair of platinum headed young women, stared down toward the end of the table Alexa was indicating towards. 

Dana’s brow furrowed. “That’s Nikki Cross. She’s… strange.”

Bayley nodded. “She didn’t used to be. When we were in middle school she was normal. Popular, even. But something happened over last summer break and now she’s...like that.” The latina gestured toward the girl, who was sitting at the far end of the table occupied by Alexa’s peer group. Her skin pale and hair stringy, it appeared to Alexa as though this young woman was actively trying to send out “go away” energy to everyone around her. Still, Alexa made a mental note to attempt to speak to Nikki before the week was over.

“Lexi,” Dana began, her voice wrought with curiosity. “You wanna go to the mall with us after practice? I know you have cheer. We have softball-” she pointed at Bayley and herself, “but we need new swimsuits for ‘lake day’ and this might be the only night we’re free.”

Alexa’s heart skipped a beat. “Lake Day” was clearly something that meant a lot to a select group of these high schoolers. Early in every school year, there was a “Teacher’s In Service” planning day scheduled to give the school employees time for administrative work that inevitably piled up at the beginning of every year. Dean had approached her that morning, seeming as nervous as she’d ever seen him, and filled her in on the situation before inviting Alexa to join them on the leisure excursion on Dean’s dad’s double-decker party boat for the day. She’d smiled sweetly and replied that she would very much like to, but she needed to clear it with her folks. 

“Yeah, Dean asked me to go with you guys,” Alexa returned audibly. “I didn’t have any bathing suits make the move with me, and I didn’t spend any time outside this summer that wasn’t mandatory. I guess I have to go get one, huh?”

Dana nodded. “It’s so fun, Lexi! We all pack onto the boat and drink and dance and try not to run ashore or into any boat cops. Last year Roman and his cousins shot off fireworks from the deck.”

Bayley snickered. “Yeah, that’s how Jimmy ended up with one eyebrow until Christmas. He’s lucky it grew back at all.”

Alexa chuckled to herself. No matter where she ended up, it seemed that kids were the same everywhere; mischievous, lighthearted, fun-loving. She already knew what her Aunt Mickie would say about going; that Alexa needed more carefree hijinx in her life. She might not even care about the underage drinking, though her Uncle John surely would. But an event with this many people was something that the tiny blonde wasn’t sure she was ready for yet. Unfortunately, before she could fully process the ramifications of going on the boat with twenty or so of her new friends, she realized that Bayley and Dana were still talking about her.

“....did he?” Bayley was waiting for the answer to a question Alexa hadn’t heard. When in doubt, she always assumed the “he” in question was Dean, but she still missed the crucial section of Bayley’s inquiry.

“Sorry, Bay,” Alexa returned, “I missed the question.”

Bayley grinned brightly. “It’s no problem. I asked if Dean told you about Friday night yet?”

Alexa shook her head. “No, we didn’t get to talk that long after chorus. We only talked about ‘Boat day.’”

The raven-haired girl chuckled, picturing her step-brother’s face as he conversed with Alexa. “Well, Friday is an away game for the football team, and after every away game we invite people to come to my house-” Bayley stopped, realizing that Alexa might need some clarification. “It’s Dean’s dad’s house. My mom, my sisters and I all live there. Dean’s supposed to be there primarily but he stays with his mom a lot.” She stopped again, gesturing knowingly at Alexa. “You were there. You saw his mom’s house.”

Alexa made a face. “Yeah. Not my favorite. But the company was fantastic.”

Dana snickered. “I have no idea why Dean spends so much time over there.”

Bayley continued, determined to get her verbal invitation out. “Anyway. Yeah, mom orders pizza and we watch a movie and the girls sleep on one floor and the boys sleep on another floor. It’s not as exciting as partying at Brock’s after home games, but we still have fun.”

Alexa nodded. “I’ll have to make sure Aunt Mickie doesn’t need me to watch the twins on Saturday morning, but if I’m free I’ll be there.”

Bayley’s bright smile grew even wider. “Good.” She sighed deeply, clearly satisfied with Alexa’s answer. “I’m glad you’re coming to the mall with us, too.”

The trio of young women kept up their chatter, though Alexa was mostly content to listen to the other two fill her in on where and when she needed to meet them for that evening’s excursion. In the back of Alexa’s mind, however, the sad and hollow countenance of Nikki Cross remained. Something about the girl’s demeanor made Alexa desperately want to befriend her. She resolved herself again that by the end of the week, she would make at least one attempt to speak to the pale young woman. 

After another few minutes, the bell that signalled the end of their lunch period blared intrusively throughout Blue River High School. With a shrug, Alexa stood up from the table, made sure the non-disposable contents of her lunch bag were gathered, and began composing herself for the rest of her day.

…………………….

  
  


It was four hours into the initial investigation of the double-homicide outside Ryder’s Grill, and John Cena was already frustrated. He’d first believed maybe Zack Ryder was a jilted ex, hell-bent on some sort of revenge for being dumped. In just a few minutes of detecting, however, he’d learned that Ryder had actually dumped the erratic Valkyrie, and that he’d been in the restaurant’s dish pit for the entire duration of the murders. The restaurant’s day manager, one Bobby Eaton, informed John with much more detail than the deputy thought was necessary that a few years back Mrs. Ryder herself had caught two teenage servers in various states of undress in the back portion of the building, and as a result had placed security cameras all over the property. Zack Ryder, with inescapable video evidence, was washing plates when Taya was seen getting into James Ellsworth’s vehicle, as well as for another hour after the window in which the crimes could’ve been committed ended.

There were some interesting videos being submitted to the Sheriff’s Office for examination, however. There were two cameras above the entrance to the Blue River Savings and Trust, and though their field of vision was limited, the feed did capture a hooded figure slithering down the sidewalk, being careful to avoid the bathing streetlights up and down main street. While John couldn’t make out any facial features or even the ethnicity of the potential killer, he could reasonably deduce some things about the assailant’s height from the surrounding vehicles.

Just as he began writing additional notes on a well-worn yellow legal pad, his train of thought was interrupted by his newly-returned partner. 

“Hey, John,” Michelle began brightly. “Sheriff wants to see us in the bullpen.”

Cena rolled his eyes. He was certain that Sheriff John Laurinaitis desired an update on the murder investigations before they’d even really gotten started. They were “dead-end” on Neidhart and Kidd, with no eyewitnesses or even a firm timeline on when the crime actually took place, and now they were staring straight in the face of a second difficult scenario. At this point, the possibility that the two sets of slayings were connected might have been the best scenario for the suddenly overworked Sheriff’s Department. After pressing “pause” on the VCR, John sighed in frustration and sauntered into the large office area.

John Laurinaitis was not popular amongst his subordinates. The general consensus throughout the agency was that he’d ascended to the top spot through constant, unashamed, and prolific ass-kissing, and not any type of proficiency in law enforcement. His brother, James, was something of a legend in north Georgia for his long and distinguished career doling out justice, but little brother Johnny had taken over the Sheriff’s job on an interim basis when James had been forced to retire due to health concerns, then won an election in which he ran unopposed. Now, however, Blue River was facing what many would’ve considered it’s first actual “crime spree,” and his personal deficit in crime solving was being laid bare on a daily basis. 

“Uh, if I could get everyone’s attention,” the gravelly monotone of Laurinaitis echoed throughout the room. “For those of you who haven’t heard, we had two more homicides late last evening. We are currently canvassing for eyewitnesses, but so far we’ve had very little luck with area surveillance video or finding anyone willing to come forward as a witness. For now, we are treating this as a separate and unrelated set of killings from the ones near the drive-in two nights ago.” He stopped, his eyes conveying the most concern he’d ever expressed during his tenure as Sheriff. “These are now four confirmed dead young people in the span of two days and some change, and we still have the missing Oullette and Mizanin children. I don’t need to tell any of you here how important it is that we start to gain some traction on these cases. The Mayor is threatening to take these cases from us and give them over to the GBI.”

A loud groan rippled through the meeting area. It was the biggest insult a law enforcement officer could endure to have their casework taken from them and given to another agency. On top of that, the Georgia Bureau of Investigation wasn’t exactly none for expedience or efficiency when it came to solving these cases. 

“I don’t want that either,” Laurinaitis continued after a moment. “That’s why we are throwing everything we have at this case. I want every officer who isn’t working any other felonies to concentrate on this case. Deputies Cena and McCool will run point. If you need a job, see them.”

The beleaguered Sheriff glanced over at the stunned Cena. “Congratulations, John, you’re moving up to shift sergeant effective immediately.”

This information was new to John Cena, who hadn’t been given any sort of ‘head’s up’ that Laurinaitis was going to saddle him with additional responsibility. In retrospect, however, Cena shouldn’t have been surprised. Deputies Cena and McCool were two of the longest-tenured officers in Blue River, or Gwinnett County, and the young and expanding Sheriff’s office needed steady, calm leadership at their level.

“Also,” John Laurinaitis shouted over the rumbling staff room, “we have been allocated four recent graduates of the Gwinnett County Police Training Facility to come work on these cases for us. Two of them will be staying permanently as new hires, while the other two are on loan from GCPD.” Laurinaitis gestured to the quartet of young-looking uniformed graduates to his left. “This is Tyler Breeze, Deonna Purrazzo, Shaul Guerrero and Jamie Noble.” 

As he introduced them, Laurinaitis gestured to the corresponding body while calling out their name. Cena immediately noticed how young the new Officers appeared to be, but at this point, he supposed the Sheriff’s Department could use all the help it could get. His stream of consciousness was again rudely jarred by the Sheriff.

“Are there any questions?”

After a moment, the hand of Deputy Lance Storm shot up. Laurinaitis pointed to the flat-topped officer, who’d come to Blue River by way of Calgary, Alberta, Canada. 

“Yeah, Sheriff, is this going to affect the way we provide security for the Fall Carnival?”

“No,” Laurinaitis responded resolutely. “We will assign security details accordingly. For now, the Carnival goes on as scheduled. The Mayor’s Office has been very adamant on this point. The belief is that if these attacks are connected, the perpetrator won’t strike around such a large gathering. I am meeting with the organizers next week to determine the best deployment scheme for the Carnival while still maximizing our coordination between units and minimizing our response time.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the speech the Police Chief gave in the  **Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ** movie,” Cena mused to himself. He couldn’t resist rolling his eyes at his superior. He genuinely appreciated Laurinaitis coming in and attempting to take the initiative, but it seemed to John Cena that the best thing Laurinaitis could do was stay the hell out of the way.

“Anything else?” Laurinaitis inquired. Finding that there were no further questions, the Sheriff of Blue River dismissed his Department, informing them as they walked away to do their duties that the new rookie officers would be getting assigned to partner with veteran deputies, and that their success in this case would be determined by their own hard work. As Deputy Cena meandered toward the coffee machine, a quiet, yet concerningly constant voice in the back of his head let him know that the worst in this case was yet to come.

…………………………………………………...

With everything else going on in her life, Alexa Bliss figured she’d REALLY needed this trip to Gwinnett Place Mall. One of her favorite ways to spend an afternoon with her mom had been what her father had called “retail therapy,” and the doe-eyed blonde smiled contentedly at the memory of the cherished time with her family.

Those trips were an island of tranquility next to what was currently transpiring. Bayley was calm enough, to be sure, but it seemed as though Dana Brooke and Charlotte Flair had no civility remaining once they’d crossed through the doors of the huge complex.

It was a beautiful establishment. A large, multi-storied fountain in the food court marked the splendor of a monument to capitalism teeming with foot traffic. Alexa’s first stop was to the Chick Fil A in the food court. She loved lemonade, and they offered a delicious diet version that quenched the sweet tooth she nursed constantly. She continued on with her group of friends to one of several boutiques that carried swimwear. It only took Alexa about fifteen minutes to choose the appropriate bathing suit for their outing.

She’d planned on wearing a modest bikini top with jean shorts. She’d never been one to show her body off, both because of her conservative upbringing and her body issues. But all that changed when she tried on a navy blue two piece with small white polka dots. The color brought out the blue in her eyes, and accentuated the red highlights in her hair. Dana and Charlotte both raved about how perfect the suit was when Alexa modelled it for them in the fitting room area, and even Bayley gave a smiling shrug and nod of approval.

“You look super hot, Lexi,” Dana enthused. 

Alexa tried not to turn as bright red as the streaks kissing her blonde mane. “You think?”

Charlotte nodded. “Hell yes. Dean will be drooling.”

Alexa chuckled and shook her head. “That’s not why I like it… but it’s good to know,” she admitted, the grin growing wide on her glowing countenance. 

“You’re a total babe,” Dana fired back. “Seriously.”

Alexa fought off self-consciousness as hard as she could while maintaining composure. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling naked in front of her new friends.

“Guys, seriously, it’s not that big a deal. It’s just a bathing suit.”

Bayley snickered. “Y’all leave Alexa alone. She looks fantastic, but it’s not worth embarrassing her over. She doesn’t know us well enough for you guys to talk about her body like that.”

Inwardly, relief flooded over Alexa. Charlotte and Dana meant well, but it hadn’t been that long ago that the tiny blonde had been in treatment for an eating disorder brought about by low body image. It was not easy for her to accept compliments, even when they were meant as harmlessly as Dana and Charlotte meant them.

“It’s okay, Bayley,” Alexa lied. “I know they weren't trying to make me feel weird or anything.” She sighed, matter of factly, before instantly deciding to give the trio of young women a glimpse into her past. “I’ve had a lot of… problems with self-esteem. I battled anorexia pretty hard when I was in Ohio and I’m not good at hearing about how people think I’m ‘hot’ or whatever. It’s not as simple as just smiling and saying ‘thank you.’”

Dana nodded in understanding. “I totally get it. I did the ‘binge and purge’ thing in Middle School, and into my Freshman year. I had to get help. Fucking Sasha called me ‘fat’ after a softball game in front of everyone and it started this whole chain.”

Charlotte shook her head and scoffed in disbelief. “I remember that. That was right after she told me I was so skinny I’d better grow some boobs before the city tried to hang power lines from me.”

“That bitch,” Dana immediately countered. “I fucking hate her.”

“Guys, we’re scaring Alexa,” Bayley reminded the other two girls in their vicinity. 

Dana held up a hand in anger. “She needs to know who she’s dealing with.” She turned from Bayley and focused on Alexa, their matching blue eyes honing in. “Do not let Sasha get in your head. She has this… Jedi-like ability to fuck with your mind. One minute you’ll be minding your own business and then she’ll make a comment about how you’re wearing your hair and the next thing you know you’ll be skipping school to go get a haircut.”

Alexa gave a nod in the affirmative. “Copy that. I’ve seen her around school with those two plastic blonde girls. What were their names again?”

Charlotte instantly knew the duo Alexa was referring to. “Liv Morgan and Mandy Rose. They’re all right… at least they were until Sasha got her hooks in them.”

“That’s what Dean said,” Alexa concurred. 

“Oooh,” Dana cooed playfully at the mention of Alexa’s would-be paramour. “What else did Dean say?”

Alexa smiled, once again fighting off embarrassment. “He said he’d IM me later and to have fun,” she responded, her tone nearly as whimsical as Dana’s.

The huddle of women shared another laugh, before agreeing that Alexa had to buy the two piece she’d tried on. She did, and after waiting for Dana to pay for her purchase, a silver suit much more audacious than the one Alexa had chosen, the quartet made their way out of the shop and back into the madness…

………………………………..

For Dean Ambrose, the week went by in a blur of classes and football practice and stolen moments with his love interest. His favorite of that particular week (so far) was the affectionate kiss to the cheek Alexa had given him after Wednesday’s practice when the football team and cheerleading squad were both heading for their vehicles. She’d laced her arms around his neck, pressed her face into his cheek, and daintily pursed her lips just below his cheekbone. Dean also thought he heard the slightest moan of contentment behind her closed mouth. 

“Is it too soon to ask her to Homecoming?” He’d wondered aloud on the drive home. His “drive home” was a bit longer this week, as he was staying at the home of his father, stepmother, three stepsisters, and various small children. 

Maricel Martinez Ambrose, Bayley’s biological mom and the woman Dean’s dad married when Dean was in Elementary school, had two other daughters. Mercedes was the oldest, though Dean could never remember if she was twenty seven or twenty eight. Mercedes had had a rough go of it in her late teens and early twenties, having moved to the crime hotbed of Southwest Atlanta, before a drug deal gone bad landed her in jail for a year. To her credit, she’d worked very hard with her parole officer, family, and local church program to hold down a job tending and stocking bar at the lakeside pub near Dean’s dad’s house. 

Mercedes also had two small children of her own. She’d given birth to the youngest in jail, and often cited them as the reason she was trying so desperately to keep on the “straight and narrow” path. It’d been a big day for Mercedes when she’d won back primary custody, and the three of them lived in the basement apartment in the Ambrose/Martinez luxury home.

Bayley’s other sister was a different story altogether. Shelly was twenty two and a notorious free spirit. At least, “free spirit” would be the polite term for Shelly’s behavior. She’d been sixteen when her mother married Dean’s dad, and of all the children involved, Shelly had been the one whose behavior was most affected. As a result, she had a reputation around Blue River as “loose” or “easy.” Truth be told, she wasn’t really any more promiscuous than the average girl her age. She’d just become comfortable with the residents of the conservative Southern town she lived in judging her based on her clothes and appearance. Namely, her revealing outfits and ever-present heavy makeup. 

There were also the two kids Dean’s dad and Maricel had produced together. They were a totally different story. Dean adored his seven year old half-brother, Dennis, and his five year old half-sister Gabriella. As much as he was irritated with parts of his living situation at his father’s home, every moment he spent with the pair of little ones, as well as his step-niece and nephew, was truly special. For all the types of people in the world Dean Ambrose didn’t like, he had a way with children that came in very handy at his dad’s house.

Dean contemplated his family situation as he drove home. For once, he wasn’t giving Bayley a ride, though he never minded, and so he simply let the gentle streets of his quaint hometown cradle him home, while “Hold My Hand” by HOOTIE AND THE BLOWFISH rang out pleasantly through the speakers of his vehicle. 

Now Thursday night, the downtown area was dark and nearly deserted, to the point where Dean felt a little creeped out by the absence of the usual hustle and bustle through the shops and restaurants that made up Blue River’s picturesque Main Street. Even Ryder’s Grill, normally a hub for the high school population, had no signs of patronage anywhere. Dean figured the murders had chased off some of the district’s business, but it was also always an early night the day before an away game. So many of Blue River’s citizens would caravan to wherever the Raiders were playing that they needed to get rested up the night before, leading to closed businesses and locked doors. 

The rest of Dean’s drive seemed to drag on, though he knew every inch of it like the back of his hand. Finally, after a mile-long traverse down a narrow, winding side road, he pulled up to the manned gate that fronted his father’s exclusive subdivision. Waving and flashing a laminated placard hanging from his rearview mirror, Dean barely slowed as the large wrought-iron gate swung open in front of his SUV. Coasting down another narrow street, Ambrose pulled to a complete stop for the second time in less than three hundred yards. This time he rolled down his window, speaking to an older man, thick glasses perched atop his nose, clad in a light blue collared shirt and navy tie. 

“Hey Stan,” Dean half-spat, though his tone was amiable. 

“Hey there Dean,” Stan Hansen returned. “Practice go okay?”

Ambrose managed a nod and a smile, though he was thoroughly exhausted. “Yeah. Williams is gonna be tough, but I think we got ‘em.”

Hansen snickered and shook his head. “That quarterback they got. Freeman?”

“Friedman,” Dean corrected softly. 

“Yeah, Friedman. I heard he’s a real pain in the ass.”

Dean grinned. “I’m looking forward to introducing myself.”

“I bet you are, kid. If I can get someone from the company to come over here and cover me I’m gonna make the drive.”

“Well, if no one’s here, do we even need guarding?” Dean asked wryly, causing a chuckle from their longtime security official.

With that, Stan waved off his charge, hitting the button to open the gate to Dean’s dad’s home and bidding Dean goodnight. 

……………………………………………………...

Walking into Casa de Ambrose was always something of an adventure. Since his eighth birthday, Dean had seen his family double in size, then exceed even that with the birth of his dad and Maricel’s two children together. 

“Deeeean,” the young man heard a female voice call coyly from the next room over.

Rolling his eyes and sighing as deeply as he could without that voice’s owner hearing, Dean meandered into the kitchen, where his admittedly attractive step-sister seemed to be up to no good.

“You don’t wanna talk to me? I thought we were family,” Shelly teased. 

“We are family,” Ambrose returned, not willing to flirt with his family member by marriage.

“Well, not FAMILY family,” Shelly intimated, drawing closer to her stepbrother. This behavior was nothing new for her. She seemed to relish making Dean uncomfortable, and had been engaging in this behavior for as long as they’d been living in the same house. Dean was a good sport at first, but as he grew older he could no longer tell if her advances were her idea of a joke or if she now considered Dean a suitable match. Either way, Ambrose was too tired to play this game. 

“Shelly, give it a rest. I’m tired and you’re trying too hard.” Dean heard Bayley suppress a loud laugh as she sat at the table doing her homework. She’d been at school late preparing with the marching band, and now she was perched on one of the wooden dining room chairs, half-eaten plate shoved to one side and a large textbook open in front of her. 

“Bay said we get to meet your new lady friend tomorrow night. I need to check out my competition.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. Shelly’s tone this last time made him a hundred percent sure she was joking, but it still wasn’t funny when Dean was dog tired from a full day of school and practice. 

“Sweet shades of sheep shit, please don’t embarrass me tomorrow night, Shel. I really like this one and I don’t need her getting run off by your weirdness.”

Shelly scoffed, pretending to be deeply offended. “Me? Weird? Perish the thought, cutie. I just want to make sure she’s good enough for my baby step-brother.”

“She’s way too good for him, Shel,” Bayley interjected, needling her step-brother and friend with gentle teasing.

“Oh, so it’s like that?” Shelly fired back, her mock indignation growing by the second. 

“Y’all please be cool,” Dean pleaded, the good nature disappearing from his voice. Bayley pondered this a moment, leaning over to take another bite of her dinner. 

“Well, we don’t want to make Lexi feel unwelcome or awkward. So we should probably be nice.” She winked at Shelly. “She’s my friend, and she’s new at school, so we need to make her feel right at home.”

Shelly considered this a moment, before shrugging and nodding congenially. “Why didn’t you say she was your friend? You know I’d do anything for you,  _ hermana.  _ You say the word and I’ll stay out of everyone’s hair tomorrow night.”

“Thank you!” Dean exclaimed, his exasperation now plain to hear in his gravelly voice. He turned on his heel, intending to trudge up the stairs to a shower and his welcoming bed, but Bayley’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“I hung out with Alexa tonight.” 

Dean tilted his head to one side. “I thought you had marching band practice.”

Bayley shook her head in the negative. “No, I don’t always go on Thursdays, because they’re practicing formations and I don’t march. I just stand on that platform and play my solo. I’m not even technically in marching band,” she intimated. 

“Well, what’d Alexa have to say?” Dean inquired, trying not to appear too anxious.

Bayley smiled, the obnoxious tight-lipped variety one only employs when they know something the other person doesn’t. “Oh, nothing. Just how excited she was for ‘boat day.’ We helped her pick out a swimsuit, too.”

Now Dean’s interest really was piqued. He’d been assuming Bayley was just screwing with him, as her sister had been, but any genuine sign from Alexa that she was as into him as he was into her would be appreciated, even if it meant looking less than cool in front of his co-habitants. 

Bayley gave a big, exaggerated shrug. “I think she really wants to look nice for you. I know I wouldn’t spend that much on a bikini if I didn’t care who saw me in it.”

“Me either,” Shelly chimed in.

Bayley rolled her eyes. “Shelly, you’re my sister and I love you, but you want everyone to see you when you wear bikinis.” She paused to consider this. “Or your t-shirts you cut all up so everyone can see your boobs. Or the goth stuff you wear when you go out. Pretty much everything you own you have because it shows the good parts of your body.”

Shelly gasped, though she wasn’t at all shocked at this allegation. It was true. Whether at home, the technical college she attended part time, or at Windham’s, where she worked some nights and weekends, Shelly’s look was carefully cultivated to tantalize men, which helped tips at the restaurant and her social life at school.

“It’s true,” Shelly finally acquiesced, a knowing smirk forming. “This town needs a little more excitement. And I guess if no one else is willing to give it to them, I will.”

Dean tilted his head in bewilderment at his step-sister. “Shel, like four people have been murdered since Sunday. No one knows where the greatest football player to ever play at our school or his French-Canadian model girlfriend is. The last thing this town needs is more excitement.”

Shelly scoffed. “Too damn bad. No one’s gonna keep me from being me.”

With that, she slinked out of the kitchen that seemed to serve as the family hub. Dean watched her go, an incredulous look still on his face, and turned his eyes back to Bayley, who shrugged and did her best to turn her concentration back to her homework. 

…………………………………………………………………………………….

_ The fire raged on. Kissing the very edge of the treetops with its massive flickering orange flame, Alexa felt its oppressive heat kiss her skin. The tiny blonde had no idea where she was. Only that this time she wasn’t watching her house burning or hearing the disembodied voices of her family call to her from the great beyond. This time, she heard no less than three dozen voices undertaking an ominous chant, as though they were summoning a spirit. Everyone around Alexa seemed desperate for this apparition to reveal itself, though she had no idea as to the identity of said wraith. The rhythmic yelling grew louder and louder, the shrouded figures from which the chanting was emanating grew taller and taller to either side of her. The fire in front of her grew larger and larger, drawing closer to her and hotter on her face. _

_ “No. No!” She cried out, though her voice was so quiet it could’ve been imperceptible. She felt the hands of those figures around her pushing her slowly but firmly toward the open flame.  _

_ “NOOOOOOOOO!” She screamed out into the black oblivion around her.  _

The malaised pixie shot up into a seated position in bed. Once again soaked with sweat, a feeling of dread cemented itself into the pit of her stomach. She’d had another nightmare, though not the one she usually had. There was no burning house. No recurring synopsis of how she’d lost her entire family in a single night. This was new, yet it felt just as real as the other dreams. She gave herself a once over before peering over at her digital clock radio. It was only about fifteen minutes before she needed to wake up to make it to school early enough to have a quick breakfast with her team, and so she decided to take that time to clean up and regain her composure.

Quick showers weren’t the norm for the well-built Junior. Normally, she enjoyed the solitude and the effect the hot water seemed to have on her perpetually sore muscles. This morning, however, she just wanted to scrub the perspiration and stress from her perfect skin. With no time to dry her hair, Alexa took the ninety seconds required to toss a hair straightener into her bag. It was Coach Varon’s stated intention to get the cheer squad to Williams High with at least two hours to spare, and that would give her plenty of time to make sure her blonde locks were in order before kickoff.

The rest of her morning hygienic and beauty needs met, Bliss bounded up the stairs, stopping briefly to make sure Macy “did her business” outside before she left the faithful puppy at the house for the long day. John and Mickie were both really good sports about making sure the canine was well taken care of when they were home, as Macy felt more and more like the family pet with each passing day, but Alexa didn’t feel right just not doing anything for her most loving companion. The dog, hungry and curious, simply followed her up the wooden staircase to the kitchen.

The rest of the family was already encamped around the circular table that served as “home base” for the Cena clan. Brynlee was making quick work of her scrambled eggs, and the twins picked at banana slices with their fingers while plopped securely in their high chairs.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Mickie chirped from in front of the stove. “You want just whites or the whole egg?” 

“Whole egg please, Aunt Mickie. Over easy.”

Mickie James turned to her niece with an upturned eyebrow at this unusual request. Alexa was still ingesting very plain food, as far as Mickie knew, and so the unfamiliar order drew the older woman’s curiosity.

“Fried eggs? Who are you?”

Alexa giggled, flashing a bright grin at her mom’s sister. “I’m hungry and I think they’re feeding us fast food biscuits at team meeting. I trust you to keep me slightly healthier than Coach V.”

Mickie nodded, before picking up a plastic sliver from beside the range top. “You want turkey bacon? I know you don’t eat much pork…”

Alexa nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Aunt Mickie, I do.”

Mickie sang softly to herself as she aptly maneuvered around the small cooking surface, causing Alexa to smile brightly as she watched her guardian. Before she could slip off into a stream of consciousness, however, a persistent thought made itself known.

“Aunt Mickie, did you think about what I asked you?”

Mickie turned, clearly failing to recall what Alexa was talking about.

“About whether or not it was okay if I went to Dean and Bayley’s to sleep over after the game?”

Alexa could tell Mickie wasn’t a hundred percent sold on the merits of Alexa sleeping anywhere but their home. She’d taken her written vow to become Alexa’s guardian extremely seriously, and she didn’t know how her late sister Monica would handle a situation like this. Still, John and she had decided when Alexa first arrived that they wanted her to have as normal an experience as possible. 

“That’s fine, Lexi. I know the Ambroses. They’re really nice people and they have security guards at their house.”

“Really?” Alexa asked incredulously.

Mickie nodded without missing a beat. “Yeah. JD, that’s Dean’s dad,” she continued, all the while continuing to prepare Alexa’s sustenance, “he’s like some real big shot investment banker. They were pretty poor when Dean was a kid, but he figured out some stock was gonna hit big before anyone else and bought it cheap. He made several million dollars in one day, then turned that money into tens of millions more investing in… I dunno,” Mickie mused, “like, computer stuff. Now they’re the richest family in town. Huge house up on the lake, coolest boat I’ve ever seen.” She turned back toward her niece as she pulled the large frying pan from a hot burner to one that was in the “off” setting, “they have box seats to the Braves and all kinds of other fancy stuff.”

Alexa shook her head in disbelief. She didn’t know whether or not to be hurt that Dean hadn’t told her about any of this. 

“Holy cow, Aunt Mickie, I had no idea.”

Mickie shrugged. “Yeah, they don’t talk about it a lot. And, for what it’s worth, they donate a lot of money to the school, the local hospital, and JD personally oversaw six new parks getting opened around here not long before you got here.”

For some reason Alexa couldn’t explain, it made her swell with pride to hear what a good family Dean came from. It was a wonderful reflection on him that he came from such good stock, and Alexa knew Mickie wasn’t easy to impress.

“Just be aware of his stepsisters. Bayley is sweet and wonderful, but Mercedes is terrifying and Shelly is… well, not clinically insane, because she’s never been diagnosed, but she isn’t right.”

Alexa nodded. “Noted.” Her grin grew more prevalent as Mickie set a well-used ceramic plate in front of her. As her aunt turned her attention to her twin toddlers, Alexa ate with a gusto befitting a growing adolescent. As Bliss finished her breakfast, Mickie gasped in recollection, causing the diminutive pixie to stop dead in her tracks.

“Sorry, Lex, I know you’re in a hurry, but I have really good news.”

“What’s that?” Alexa asked, growing anxious over departing on time.

“So, every year my band plays the last Saturday of the Harvest Festival.”

“The James Gang?” Alexa asked, smirking affably.

“Yep. And this year they’re letting me pick our opening act. I want you and your friends to play. The ones I heard you played with last week.”

“Mickie, we aren’t a band. They’re just my friends who let me play with them last week.”

Mickie shrugged, not considering any outcome but her chosen one. “It’ll be fine. Dean’ll play because he’s completely smitten with you. I’ve seen him look at you, and he is. Bayley will play because Dean is. The big Samoan and Zack. They’ll all play if you ask them. Just do not, under any circumstances, let them keep their band name.”

Alexa rolled her eyes. “Mickie, they aren’t my band. Thank you for asking me to open for you, but I don’t have a band.”

“You do,” Mickie insisted. “They just don’t know they’re your band yet. Dean can sing some songs. He’s talented. That Bayley is really gifted, too.”

Alexa tried not to let her annoyance get the better of her. “I have to go, Aunt Mickie. But I’ll talk to them, I promise.” She reached down to grab her school bag and the small duffel she’d packed for the after-party at Dean and Bayley’s. “Have a good day. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Mickie called brightly. 

As Alexa climbed into her car and backed out of the cracked driveway, she couldn’t help but begin putting a set list together in her head. “It would be really fun,” she admitted to herself. Seh loved performing. And, she reminded herself, any reason to spend time with Dean was a good one.

………………………………………………………………………………………

The bus ride to Amos E. Williams High School felt like the drive to Baltimore from North Atlanta Dean Ambrose had once made with his mother. It was less than twenty miles from one school to the other, but the caravan of buses meandered so slowly that the restless nature of the high schoolers occupying the linoleum seats prompted many of them to rock back and forth or otherwise fidget.

Dean was on the defensive starters bus. There were six school buses in total, three offense and three defense, but only the two buses for starting players were populated in such a way that every young man got his own bench seat, allowing them to stretch out and relax.

Ambrose had a ton on his mind. Not the least of which were the two offensive Tackles AEW High were planning on deploying that night. Luke Harper and Erick Rowan, two monstrous Seniors, were widely known as “road graders,” which meant in layman’s terms that they were the best run blockers around. The local paper had taken to calling them “the Bludgeon Brothers” due to their relentless nature.

Dean glanced over at Brock Lesnar, who had his eyes closed and headphones over his ears. Brock had passed his math test. Whether or not his passing grade was earned or fudged due to his prodigious knack for rendering opposing quarterbacks into paraplegics was anyone’s guess. But all the gargantuan defensive Tackle seemed to want to do was bob his head lightly in time with whatever was blaring directly into his aural canals.

Titus O’Neil appeared to be reading. One seat up from him, Keith Lee was fast asleep, his massive back rested squarely against the outer wall. His seat’s window was all the way down, and the resulting breeze seemed to cool the entire vehicle. 

Right next to Dean was Roman Reigns. Roman seemed to spend most of his waking life in this kind of intense state of being, constantly on the defensive so as not to be surprised. Today was no different. He’d talked briefly to Dean about band rehearsal that Sunday afternoon, but other than that, and the brief smile he’d produced when Dean asked if he and Zelina were coming to the Ambrose house together after the game, he remained almost eerily silent.

Seth Rollins, however, was a veritable chatterbox. Not in any sort of entertaining way. Seth had to audibly review his defensive assignments as he’d learned them during the week if he were to have any chance of retaining them. Newcomer Enzo Amore, who’d quickly earned his stripes with his utterly fearless nature during practice, listened intently to Rollins, knowing many of their tasks coincided. The Raiders were deploying a “4-2-5” defense this week, which meant that they’d be taking a stronger player off the field and replacing him with a faster one. Enzo was that faster player. It was highly unusual for coaches to start a new team member so soon, but with Christian Cage now playing Quarterback, they needed Amore to play and play well right away.

That wasn’t what Dean Ambrose was really thinking about. What currently weighed heaviest on his mind was his unacceptably high infatuation level with Alexa Bliss. All week, when he should’ve been doing schoolwork, working on his guitar skills or even getting in extra training for that week’s football game, he could only see the golden-haired pixie in his mind’s eye. There wasn’t really any excuse for it. 

“Yo Brock!” Jimmy Uso called from somewhere behind Dean. After a second, the huge boy slid his headphones down to his neck and raised his brow.

“What?” Lesnar returned, annoyed at the interruption.

“What you listenin’ to?” Jimmy inquired brashly. 

“Kid motherfuckin’ Rock!” Brock spat out defiantly, as though he were the coolest man in the world. There was a still silence for just a moment as Jimmy and Jey Uso digested this information. After another beat, they both burst out in mocking laughter at their teammate’s abhorrent taste in music. 

“That’s the cracker-est cracker shit of all time!” Jey retorted, taking up his brother's cause. “The fuck you average twelve tackles a game listening to that bullshit?”

Brock snickered at the assertion, before extending a middle finger toward the Uso brothers, who laughed in response. As the ambient noise on the bus reached more normal levels, Dean smiled. A relaxed, content smile, before closing his eyes and trying to get some rest before that night’s game.

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

The Friday night atmosphere at Williams High was exactly what came to one’s mind when the words “high school football” were used in that part of Georgia. Loud, persistent marching bands. Cheerleaders with bright smiles and crisp routines. Proud friends, family, and students occupying the stands. Dean Ambrose didn’t often take the chance to soak all that in. Ordinarily, by opening kickoff, we’d worked himself into such a tumult of surging emotion and brimming aggression that there was no acknowledging anything but bestowing violence upon anyone who dared get close.

That wasn’t the case tonight. For the first time that Dean could remember, Blue River elected to receive the opening kickoff. There was a simple reason for this; A.E.Williams High’s high-powered, fast paced offense was a daunting matchup for the well-coached but not especially fleet-footed defense. Blue River’s coaches chose to remedy that issue by having their team’s offense on the field first. 

Brian Cage and Michael Wardlow, the prize pair of defensive tackles deployed by Williams High, had their own ideas as to the success of Blue River’s offense. Akam and Rezar Ellering, the adopted sons of longtime Blue River resident Paul Ellering and starting guards, were big, fast, and strong, but they were young, and Defensive Coordinator Dustin Rhodes used multiple and confusing alignments to confound the Raider Offensive Line, leading to a disturbing lack of success early in the game.

By halftime, it was abundantly clear that the Blue River Raiders were in for a real fight. Trailing twenty four to nine, with only three field goals to attest to their efforts, Coach Arn Anderson was beside himself with anger. His team had played scared, sloppy, and all in all a very uninspired first half. After a halftime speech in which the volume and aggression in his voice was enough to metaphorically peel paint from the walls, the visiting Raiders hit the field re-energized and ready to make a statement.

It didn’t take long. On the first possession of the second half for the A. E. Williams Jaguars, their Quarterback, a Senior by the name of Maxwell Jacob Friedman, threw a bullet pass in the direction of Isiah Cassidy. Before the young man could bring the ball in, Enzo Amore tipped the pigskin in the air, allowing Dean to run under the ball, catch it, and take off in the direction of the opposite end zone for what is commonly known as a “pick six.”

The touchdown meant Blue River would be kicking off to AEW. Their offense, which literally could not be stopped just a few minutes previous, now sputtered like a car with a dying alternator. Friedman threw incompletions on second and third down, forcing the Jaguars to punt and giving the Raiders really good field position.

Whatever issues the team was suffering from in the first half, to Alexa Bliss’ untrained eye, they appeared to be fixed in the third period. The Dean Ambrose touchdown had painted a permanent grin on the gorgeous blonde’s face. She allowed herself her first moment of abject, unchecked elation in several months, even jumping up and down and clapping when Dean crossed the goal line and the marching band began playing the school fight song, as they did after all touchdowns by Blue River.

“Aww, my little Lexi has a crush!” AJ Lee exclaimed, watching with joy at her friend seeming so joyful.

“Please. I’m excited for the touchdown!” Alexa retorted gamely, though they both knew that wasn’t entirely true. She was excited that her new allegiant team was inching closer to a victory, but there was no denying that she felt an extra spark of joy from the fact that it was Dean Ambrose that scored the last points for Blue River.

Zelina Vega, the third of four tiny “flyers” on Blue River’s cheerleading squad, nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I told Roman I’d cheer extra loud for him. I hope he can hear me!”

AJ snickered, though she gave an understanding nod of the head. “Yeah, at least neither of you are dating offensive linemen like Baron. They never score points, so it’s hard to get excited about much ever.”

Alexa giggled. “Yeah, I could see that.” Changing the subject as Blue River kicked off, she glanced over at Zelina.

“Are you going to Dean’s after this?” She inquired of the miniscule Latina.

Vega shrugged. “I mean yeah, probably. Roman invited me and I don’t have anything else to do.” 

AJ Lee smiled brightly. “Alexa, I know you can’t wait to sleep under the same roof as-” She cut off as the visiting crowd let out another huge cheer. Part of Blue River’s new defensive strategy was sending “blitzers” from all sides, and Enzo Amore found himself blistering the AEW quarterback on third down. As obnoxious as he could be, Dean had to admit that the undersized lunatic knew his way around a football field, and was not afraid to punish opposing players. 

The Blue River defense did its job, forcing a punt from the suddenly inept A.E. Williams offense, while Dean found a seat on the bench as close to the cheer squad as he could manage. As the dozen or so uniformed girls began their chanting and choreographed movements, Dean glanced over his shoulder to watch his potential love interest perform. 

“Bro,” Roman grumbled, grabbing a seat on the aluminum bench, “don’t lose focus. We’re still fucking losing.”

“I’m focused, dude, damn,” Dean retorted, annoyed at the assertion that he wasn't completely dialed in.

“You're focused on that juicy little blonde shaking her ass.” Roman raised his hands as Dean turned to admonish the big Samoan. “It’s cool. I’m watching the latin version. It’s like I hit the ‘SAP’ button on the best remote ever.”

Dean allowed one huge laugh, before remembering where he was. As he was about to reply, a giant cheer went up from the visiting team’s stands. Christian Cage had eluded the Williams pass rush and connected with Colin Cassady for a huge gaining play. With the Raiders now setting up inside the opposing team’s “red zone,” it wouldn’t be long before Dean and Roman retook the field with their defensive compatriots. 

“Y’all kiss yet?” Roman inquired, as quietly as could be expected. Dean shrugged, genuinely perplexed as to how to answer. 

“I mean, she’s kissed me a few times, but we haven’t really kissed. Like,  _ kissed _ kissed.”

“You better hurry that shit along, bro,” Roman teased. “I already made out with Zelina like five times.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s because Zelina has wanted to sit on your junk for like two years. I’m starting from scratch here.”

Roman laughed. Just then, another cheer rose from the same side of the stadium, as Apollo Crews scored a touchdown, making the score 24-23 in favor of AE Williams. An extra point try tied the game at 24, causing Dean and Roman to rise to their feet.

“Well,” Roman continued, beginning to conclude his thoughts, “you better figure some shit out. I think you got ‘til the end of the weekend before you get ‘friend-zoned.’”

Dean snickered defiantly. “I’m on top of it.” Both boys paused to watch the Blood River kickoff sail through the end zone. “Plus,” Dean added, sly half grin on his face, “it’s a long weekend.”

Roman let out one big “HA” as they ran out onto the field together, joining Brock Lesnar and the rest of their teammates.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

The change in momentum continued. The Blue River defense continued their angry play, and the offense continued to click, with Christian Cage throwing for and running for a total of three touchdowns, and Blue River began to cruise to a second win. AE Williams added one more score late; a throw from backup Quarterback Jack Perry to Marc Quenn, but by then the die had been cast. Blue River seemed content to let the clock out, and the Raider faithful cheered loudly for their boys. 

From his position on the field, Dean could see his dad, step-mom, his two older step sisters and Mercedes’ kids, and their longtime private security agent Stan Hansen. 

“I guess he got someone to cover his shift,” Ambrose mused to himself. 

Alexa wasn’t without her support system, either. Her aunt had been unable to make the sizable drive from the hair salon she worked most Fridsys all the way out to AE Williams, but her Uncle John had. He was leaning against the chain link fence that surrounded the field area, from the goal line around the end zone. He smiled and nodded at his niece, before giving her a thumbs up and signalling that he was leaving. Having been driven by the cheer bus, Alexa wasn’t worried about a ride where she was going. She did think it was sweet that even though John wasn’t biologically related to her at all, he was doing his best to be a father to the orphaned Bliss. 

Coach Anderson gave a rousing postgame speech. Something about tenacity and coming back from way behind. Neither Dean nor Alexa heard a word. Instead, the tiny blonde spent the time subtly moving closer to the exhausted Ambrose. She’d only had just enough time to sidle up to the linebacker when Anderson dispersed the crowd.

Dean felt a tiny hand grip him around the wrist.

“Hey, great game,” she mused quietly, trying her best not to sound as anxious as she felt. 

“Thanks. You coming to the house?”

Alexa nodded, still unable to make eye contact with Dean. “Yeah. I’ll be there. Can you give me a ride from school to your house?”

Dean grinned, playfully, before nodding in the affirmative. “Sure. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” Alexa lilted, finally glancing up at her crush. 

“Cool. I guess wait for me by my truck when you get done. You’ll probably get cleaned up before me, since there’s like eighty of us that need to shower and like sixteen of you.”

Alexa laughed. “Yeah. One of the advantages of being small on a small team.”

The pair walked off the field together, slowly, making awkward small talk in an effort to avoid acknowledging the deepening affections growing between them.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The air was cooling earlier this week. That was Alexa’s first thought as she headed out the gym doors and into the student parking lot.

She’d made a concerted effort to dress down. As far as Alexa knew, this event was simply lounging and relaxing for a bit before turning on a movie and falling asleep. She planned her outfit accordingly, and strode out down the long staircase and into the large pavement plain that accommodated the student’s vehicles. At first, there were dozens and dozens of athletes, band members, and cheerleaders milling about, mingling amiably as they wrangled their rides, one, two, and up to six at a time. A Lexus very near to where Alexa currently stood was blasting DMX’s “Rough Riders Anthem” across the lot and into the night. As she briskly gaited to Dean’s car, however, Alexa couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching her. 

“Why did Dean have to park so far away?” She wondered frantically as she noticed motion from the corner of her eye. As Alexa had learned from unarmed self defense classes she’d taken while at the psych ward, there was noticeable motion in her peripheral vision.

She sped her pace, but it was too late. A hooded figure, clad entirely in black, was following her, increasing their pace as Alexa did hers. 

“Fuck,” Alexa thought to herself, hoping against hope to reach Dean’s vehicle before her pursuer caught her. She got closer to the vehicle than she had any right to expect to, but she was still twenty feet away when her potential assailant caught up to her. With a gasp and a jump of at least a few inches, Alexa froze in place when she felt a hand on one shoulder.

“What?!?” Alexa cried, loudly, causing her pursuer to jump in place nearly as high as she had.

“I’m sorry,” the apparently female pedestrian responded with a heavy Scottish accent. “You dropped this.”

She held out a small billfold to Alexa, who grabbed it from the other girl with a desperate pull. There wasn’t any money in the tiny leather receptacle. In fact, it didn’t really carry anything of value at all. Alexa had her own wallet for carrying money and other important items, but this thin layer of leather that once was a baseball glove belonged to her brother. It was the only item recoverable from his person after putting the fires out. 

“Thank you…?” Alexa trailed off, searching to identify the other party, who hadn’t removed her hood. 

“I’m Nikki. Nikki Cross.” The pale young woman finally removed her hood. “Sorry. I don’t like when people know I’m around. I’d rather just try to stay invisible.”

Alexa tried not to betray how sad hearing that made her. “I’ve felt that way before. I’m Alexa,” she gave Nikki her brightest smile and extended her hand, trying to convey a sense that Nikki could let her guard down around her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Nikki took Alexa’s hand, though there was little energy in how she shook it. “It’s nice to meet you too. You was staring at me at lunch the other day.”

Alexa nodded. “I was. They were telling me that you used to be really friendly. What happened?”

Nikki Cross exhaled deeply. “Issa long story,” she bemoaned, her tone belying a sad event or series of events. “But I’m not welcome in certain circles anymore.”

Alexa frowned, before an idea overtook her. “Do you wanna come to Dean and Bayley’s house for a while? Talk to some people?”

Nikki shook her head. “I appreciate it, but I hafta be home soon. I don’t even know why I came here. I don’t know anyone anymore. I guess I was hopin’ to run into you.”

Alexa’s eyes widened with surprise. “Really?” 

Nikki nodded. “Aye. You seem nice. You’re new, so maybe you won’t think I’m weird.”

Alexa reached out to take her new friend’s hand. “Why don’t you come with us to Dean’s?”

Nikki refused with an even more forceful head shake. “No. I can’t.”

“Will you at least sit with us at lunch Tuesday?” 

Cross considered this for a few moments. “I guess. I honestly forgot we was off Monday.”

“We are,” Alexa smiled as she spoke. “I’d invite you on the boat but I’m not sure I have the authority. But come sit with us Tuesday. Okay?”

As she finished her sentence, Dean finally made his way toward the pair of conversing girls. 

“Ready?” Ambrose called from several feet away. 

“Yeah.” To Nikki, Alexa asked a final time. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?”

Nikki shook her head. It was odd to the blonde how uncomfortable Nikki seemed around Dean.

“Okay, suit yourself.” Alexa playfully pecked Dean on the cheek, then strode over to her side of the vehicle and climbed in. Dean and Nikki exchanged a glare, the type of look that’s only really shared between two people with a history, before Dean pulled himself into the driver’s seat.

  
  
  


……………..

_ I know, I know. No murder this chapter. Well, I got way the fuck behind with exposition and needed to catch up. I had to introduce Dean’s family and do some other stuff. I got a little bogged down with the narrative. The next entry will be faster and more excited. Also, I have good news! I’ll have more time for this story now. The guy I was partnering with elsewhere lost his goddamn mind and started yelling about me being “pro choice,” so I now only write this story. Let me know what you think.  _

  
  



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